


SILENT || HARRY POTTER

by sugadad_dy93



Series: BLACK TRILOGY [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 18:40:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 27
Words: 61,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15346122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugadad_dy93/pseuds/sugadad_dy93
Summary: silent; [adj.] no making or accompanied by any sound; not expressed aloud. ENGLISH.A newly transferred mute girl, Darcy Black, from Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has come to Hogwarts with her mysterious aunt, Ophelia Black, during a time of great skepticism and dark magic.. . .❝did you know that we had little baby play dates?❞❝yes, you told me that several times.❞❝don't you think that's so unreal?❞❝yeah, but if you kiss me, it'll make it realer.❞. . .HARRY POTTER LOVE STORY/MARAUDER FLASHBACKS.Part one, book three; completepart two, book four; completepart three, book five ; ongoinglong chapters.





	1. plot ; part one

**_originally published 11/28/16_ **

❝ _A newly transferred mute girl, Darcy Black, from Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has come to Hogwarts with her mysterious aunt, Ophelia Black, during a time of great skepticism and dark magic._ ❞ _  
_

_Growing up from a different country, a different culture, is hard to adapt to the prejudice living of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry. Darcy Black, oblivious to the name she carried until stepping foot to her Potions class, is mute from a seemingly incurable mute curse. She is undeniably smart, is on top of her classes, and is not noticed until she befriends Hermione Granger. _

_There is a boy, Harry Potter, who can't help but notice her. At first sight, he already knew everything about Darcy._ _He knows who her father is, albeit the facade going around that Sirius Black is her uncle and Ophelia Black is her mother._

_There's Ophelia Black, who has a dark past and a even darker future ahead. She's the one person Darcy grew up with. Ophelia was never "mother" or "mom" to Darcy. She was Ophelia, her relative. There was no specific person that Darcy could say was her parent, but Ophelia is the exception of a parent-like figure._

_And now there's the Azkaban escapee, Sirius Black, who threatens Hogwarts with his supposed blood-thirst. In a time of great skepticism, Darcy Black must overcome these rumors, deal with her muteness, and figure out how to reverse her curse._


	2. marauders map

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: this entire chapter sets the setting of who my main characters are. Ophelia Black and Darcy Black. I will attempt to tell of two love stories. :) Slight Marauder's backstory at the end. [AND I CHANGED THE PLOT A LITTLE!]

****A woman with long cascading dark hair apparates onto Hogsmead, her cloak now covered in the blizzard of snow around them. She was tall, elegant, and her grey eyes can be seen from where Harry was. She looks elegant, and rigid, like she could break but make a stand. The paleness of her skin could match the snow, and it looks unhealthy for a woman of such.

Harry was underneath the invisibility cloak, so when the woman seemed to stare at the three—Hermione, Ron and Harry—he thought that she was staring right at him. Instead, she briskly walked into the pub, where soon after the trio would go in as well.

"Tell you what," said Ron, his teeth chattering, "shall we go for a butterbeer at the three broomsticks?"

Harry was more than willing; the wind was fierce and his hands were freezing, so they crossed the same road the woman did and in a few minutes were entering the tiny inn.

It was extremely crowded, noisy, warm, and smoky. But the woman he saw earlier was easiest to spot, nearest to the bar with a curvy sort of woman with a pretty face was grimly staring at the tall, thin one. She seemed displeased at the sight of the dark woman.

"That's Madame Rosmerta," said Ron. "I'll get the drinks, shall i?" he added, going slightly red.

Harry and Hermione made their wat to the back of the room, where there was a small table between the window and a handsome Christmas tree, which stood next to a fireplace. Ron came back five minutes later, carrying three foaming tankards of butterbeer.

"Merry Christmas!" he said happily, raising his tankard.

Harry drank deeply, still eyeing the tall and pale woman with Madame Rosmerta.

"Do you reckon who she is?" he asked Hermione and Ron, pointing at the bar.

"Which?" Ron answered, swerving around in his chair to where Harry pointed. "Oh, that's Madame—"

"I already to him that," interrupts Hermione. "Do you mean the palest one? I haven't got an idea, Harry, why do you ask?"

Harry was stumped, as he once again looks at the woman with utmost interest.

A sudden breeze ruffled his hair. The door of the pub had opened again. Harry looked over the rim of his tankard and choked.

Professors McGongall and Flitwick had just entered the pub with a flurry of snowflakes, shortly followed by Hagrid, who was in deep conversation with a portly man in a lime-green bowler hat and pinstriped cloak—Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.

In an instant, Ron and Hermione had both placed their hands on the top of Harry's head and forced him off his stool and under the table. Dripping with butterbeer and crouching out of sight, Harry clutched his tankard and watched the teacher's and Fudges feet move towards the bar, pause—but this time they is an additional pair of feet and they walked towards him.

Somewehre above him, Hermione whispers, "Mobiliarbus!"

The Christmas tree beside their table rose a few inches off the ground, and drifted sideways, and landed with a soft thump right in front of their table, hiding them from view. Staring through the dense lower branches, Harry saw five sets of chair legs move back from the table and right besides there, then heard the grunts and sighs of teachers as they sat down.

Next he saw another pair of feet, wearing turquoise high heels, and heard a womans voice.

"A small gillyweed—"

"Mine," said Professor McGonagall's voice.

"Four pints of mulled mead—."

"Ta, Rosmerta," said Hagrid.

"A cherry syrup and soda with ice and umbrella—"

"Mmm!" said Professor Flitwick, smacking his lips.

"And you'll be the red currant rum, Minister?"

"Yes," the minister replied.

"And I take it you're the...butterbeer?"

"Yes, thank you, Rosmerta," said an unknown woman's voice.

"And thank you again!" said Fudge, "Lovely to see you again, I must say. Have one yourself, won't you? Come and join us..."

"Well, thank you very much, Minister."

Harry watched the glittering heels march away and back again. His heart was pounding uncomfortably in his throat. Why hadn't it occurred to him that this was the last weekend of term for teachers too? And how long were they going to be there? He needed time to sneak back into Honeydukes if he wanted to return to school tonight...Hermione's leg gave a nervous twitch next to him.

"So, what brings you to this neck of the woods, Minister...and  _Ophelia_?" came Madame Rosmerta's voice.

Harry saw the woman, Ophelia, turn around as though looking for eavesdroppers. Then, she settled and allowed Fudge to continue on.

"What else, m'dear, but Sirius Black? I daresay you heard what happened up at the school at Halloween?"

"I did hear rumor," admitted Rosmerta.

"Did you tell the whole pub, Hagrid?" said Professor McGonagall exasperately.

"Do you think Black's still in the area, Minister?" whispered Rosmerta.

"I'm sure of it," said Fudge shortly.

"Like I can take your word for granted," quietly snorted Ophelia.

Fudge ignored her comment, as did everyone else.

"You know that the dementor have searched my pub twice?" said Madame Rosmerta, slight edge in her voice. "scared all my customers away...it's very bad for business."

"Rosmerta, m'dear, I don't like them anymore than you do," said Fudge uncomfortably. "Necessary precaution...unfortunate, but there you are...I've just met some of them. They're ina fury against Dumbledore—he won't let them inside the castle grounds."

"Obviously, I've already encountered three that tried to  _kiss_  me, Fudge!" blurted Ophelia. "You'd think you'd get respect, but I suppose doing dirty work isn't enough."

"Ophelia," warned McGongall. She looked back to Fudge. "I should think not, Minister. How are we supposed to teach with those horrors floating around!"

"Hear, hear!" squeaked Flitwick, whose feet were dangling from the chair.

"All the same," demurred Fudge, "they are here to protect you all from something much worse...We all know what Black's capable of..."

Another snort from Ophelia. "I know what he's capable of—you only know what the muggles told you. And we all know Pettigrew—"

"I have trouble believe it too, Ophelia," Rosmerta added thoughtfully. "Of all the people to go over to the dark side, Sirius Black was the last I'd have thought... I mean, I remember him when he was a boy at Hogwarts, running around with you. If you'd told me then what he was going to become, I would have said you had too much mead."

"You don't know the half of it, Rosmerta," said Fudge, gruffly. "The worst he did isn't widely known."

From Harry's view, he could see Ophelia's jaw clench.

"The worst?" said Rosmerta, her voice alive with curiosity. "Worse than killing all those poor people, you mean?"

"I certainly do!"

"I can't believe that. What could possibly be worse?"

"You say you remember him at Hogwarts, Rosmerta," murmured Professor McGongall. "Do you remember who his best friend was?"

"Naturally," Rosmerta said, with a small laugh. "Never saw one without the other, did you. The number of times I had them in here, along with you Ophelia! —ooh, you three make me laugh. Quite the triple act, Sirius Black and James Potter!"

Harry dropped his tankard with a loud clunk. Ron kicked him.

"Precisely," said Professor McGonagall. "Black and Potter. Ring-leaders of their own little gang. Both very bright, of course—exceptionally bright, in fact—but I don't think we've ever had such a pair of trouble makers—"

"I dunno," chuckled Hagrid. "Fred and George Weasely could give 'em a run fer their money."

"You'd have thought Black and Potter were brothers!" chimed in Flitwick. "Oh, but Ophelia, you fell hard for Potter didn't you? Ah, I remember you two were some couple in fourth year—lasted you til' the end of sixth year..."

"Sirius and I spent all our summer's with the Potters," Ophelia added. "Treated us like we were family. Gave us a home when ours wouldn't..."

"Of course you all were," said Fudge. "Potter trusted Black beyond all his other friends. Nothing changed when they left school. Black was best man when James married, oh sorry Ophelia..."

"Oh no, continue, Minister. I'm sorry if I seem a little apprehensive of this..."

"Well, James married Lily—and from what I gather, he was quite heartbroken when you left to be a spy for the Dark Lord—and they named Sirius the godfather of Harry and his twin sister! Sadly, the twin was a miscarriage. You can imagine how the idea would torment Harry."

"Because Black turned out to be in league with You-Know-Who?" whispered Rosmerta.

"No, even worse than that..." Fudge trailed off.

It was then that Ophelia continued. "Not many people are aware that James and Lily knew You-Know-Who was after them. Dumbledore assigned me at the end of my sixth year to be a spy for You-Know-Who. I and—I tipped Dumbledore off, and he called James and Lily at once. He advised them to go into hiding and You-Know-Who wasn't an easy person to hide from. Dumbledore told them to use the Fidelius Charm."

"How does that work?" said Rosmerta, breathless with interest. Professor Flitwick cleared his throat.

"An immensely complex spell," he said squeakily, "involving the magical concealemtn of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find—unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it. A long as the Secret-Keeper refused to speak, You-Know-Who could search the village where Lily and James were staying for years and never find them, not even if he had his nosed pressed against their sitting-room window!"

"So Black was Potters' Secret-Keeper?" whispered Rosmerta.

"Naturally," said Professor McGonagall. "James told Dumbledore that Black would die than telling where they were, that Black was planning to go into hiding himself...and yet, Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to be the secret keepr for the Potter's."

"He suspected Black?" gasped Rosmerta.

"He didn't suspect my brother, Rosmerta," sneered Ophelia. "My brother and I were loyal to James—either me being romantic and Sirius being brotherly—Dumbledore only suspected that someone close to James had been informing You-Know-Who. And as I told them all those years ago, it was not my brother! I would've  _seen_  my brother with  _him_."

"We can't be sure of that, can we, Miss Black? No evidence can prove that Peter did it. After all, you've been harboring his child for how long?"

Ophelia gritted her teeth at the fat man.

"But James Potter insisted on using Black for Secret-Keeper?" Rosmerta questioned, keeping Ophelia from snapping back.

"He did," Fudge heavily said. "And then, barely a week after the Fidelius Charm had been performed—"

"Black betrayed them?" breathed Rosmerta.

Ophelia's face contorted to one of distaste. Fudge continued.

"He did indeed. Black was tired of his double-agent role, he was ready to declare his support openly for You-Know-Who, and he seemed to have planned this for the moment of the Potter's death. But, as we all know, You-Know-Who met his downfall in little Harry Potter. Powers gone, horribly weakened, he fled. And this left Black in a very nasty position. His master had fallen at the very moment when he, Black, had shown his true colors as a traitor. He had no choice but to run for it—"

"Filthy, stinkin' turncoat!" Hagrid said, so loudly that half the bar went quiet.

"Shh!" said McGonagall.

Ophelia shoved her chair back, and she pointed at Hagrid. "My brother was  _not_  a turncoat! I don't care what you think, my brother—he was—he is a good man! You've all known how his mother treated him—how she treated me! I was the  _bastard_  child and he the blood traitor—yet we both ended in houses that were not Slytherin! I'm leaving. I don't why you called me here, if all you were going to do was talk about him like that—in front of  _me!_ "

And with that, Ophelia Black—bastard child of the Blacks, Hufflepuff, and blood traitor—stomped out of Three Broomsticks, her body not disapparting, but walking towards the Hogwarts castle.

Harry later learned the man that Sirius Black had killed was Peter Pettigrew. He was left alone by his friends. Quiet, and unmistaken having the worst headache. Why hadn't nobody told him? Dumbledore, Hagrid, Mr. Weasely, Fudge...Why hadn't anyone mentioned the fact that Harry's parents died because their best friend had betrayed them? Why did no one mention Ophelia Black, the supposed first love of his father? Who was still  _alive_ , and happened to be a spy.

Later on, after dinner, Harry pulled out the photo album Hagrid had given him two years ago, which was full of wizard pictures of his mother and father. He sat down on his bed, drew the hangings around him, and started turning the pages, searching, until...

He stopped on the picture of his parents' wedding day. There was his father, waving up at him, beaming, the untidy black hair Harry inherited along with the deep tan. There was his mother, alight with happiness, arm in arm with his dad. And there...that must be him. Their best man...Harry had never given him much thought before.

If he hadn't known it was the same person, he would never have guessed it was Black in this old photograph. He looked a lot like Ophelia. The same stormy gray eyes, and their faces seem to be structurally similar. His face wasn't sunken in and waxy, but handsome, full of laughter—something Ophelia seemed to be lacking. Had he been working for Voldemort when this picture was taken? Was he already planning the deaths of the two people next to him? Did he realize he was facing twelve years that would make him unrecognizable?

 _But the dementors don't affect him_ , harry thought, staring into the handsome, laughing face.  _He doesn't have to hear my mum screaming if they got too close_...

Harry slammed the album shut, but a few loose pictures seemed to slip out. He considered just stuffing them back into the album, but the one that faced upright pictured his father, with a younger, more youthful Ophelia.

This peaked his interests. He picked the three photos up, and he began examining the first one. His father was holding Ophelia close to him, his eyes focused on her as though she was the sun. He had his Gryffindor scarf wrapped around both of their necks, as was her yellow and black—Hufflepuff—scarf was around his. He smiled so bright at her, the glimpse of red trees were behind them and the Quidditch stadium too. Ophelia was bashful, and her pale skin seemed more alive than now. Her eyes were in fact, brighter, and her eyes were casted down as his father was looking at her.

The second image, the two seemed younger, maybe their fifth year? This time, the two were at a house and were in bed together. Ophelia's hair had been chopped off and she was reading a book. His father then entered the image and took away the book, pecking her lightly on the lips.

The last image was different, it included a much more youthful Sirius. James and Sirius sandwiched Ophelia, Sirius ruffling his sister's hair and smiling down at her as she did as well. Harry guessed this was their fourth year. His father was holding Ophelia's hand behind his back, and was laughing as the siblings did.

Harry felt his chest quicken as he looked at the three photos. Photos that were before his mother and his father even dated and married. They all seemed so happy, like Voldemort didn't even  _exist_. He shoved the photos into the album, and this time he did get into bed.

Then it struck him—did Fudge say "harboring his child?" And if so, who was this girl?

. . .

It was three in the morning when Darcy Black and Ophelia Black reached Dumbledore's office.

He allowed them in with the utmost kindness. His eyes were solemn, and kind as they watched them take their seat in front of him.

"You have grown into a wonderful lady, Ms. Black—and you, Darcy, it's a pleasure to meet you," he greets, his wand flickering for the tray of tea. "Would you like some tea?"

"That would be lovely," Ophelia's thin accent says. Spending fourteen years in America can do that to your voice. Darcy quietly does the same.

Dumbledore places the cup of tea in front of her and she timidly takes it. She thanks him.

"You've not seen Harry," he begins, his eyes fairly well-trained on his former student. "He looks just like James but he's got—"

"—his mother's eyes, Lily," Ophelia finished his sentence with a grim voice. "So young, Dumbledore. I've already heard he's dealt with so much..."

"Young he is, Ms. Black. I'm sure the meeting yesterday evening was very displeasing."

" _I_  was..."

There was a silence between them.

"I know you are not here for the boy, Ophelia. You came with Darcy—you intend to finally release her to the public after thirteen years. May I ask why you kept her in hiding for so long?"

Ophelia pursed her lips and nervously glanced at her adoptive daughter. "She's like a daughter to me, Dumbledore. I trained Darcy with her magic—I managed to get her into Ilvermorny--she's been treated with the utmost discipline at that school."

"Ah," Dumbledore mused, "but I heard she also adopted the Uagadou techniques."

"Indeed."

"So now you think it time for her to drop by in her third year. Here, at Hogwarts."

"I do believe so. I've already checked what she needed to be covered for third year. She's done them all—if not she is ahead of the third years. I do wish her to be more understanding of her situation."

Dumbledore lightly placed his tea on his dark desk. His eyes were watching Ophelia in front of him, like he didn't exactly want to let Darcy in. Alas, he stood from his chair and Darcy watched with piercing eyes. He reached for a ragged hat.

"This is the sorting hat, Darcy," Dumbledore explains, "it will sort you into whichever house."

Darcy swallows her anxiousness down and nods. The Headmaster placed the hat on top of her.

" _A Black, you are..._ " the hat whispers into her head. It was shocking, but Darcy nodded and listened to what the hat had to say.

" _You've never met your brother, I suppose. You two are different...you are more shy than he is, surprisingly. You are kind, just like him, but you are ignorant, unlike him._

_All houses tend to fit for you, I see. You are kind, and friendly--cunning and strong. Slytherin, maybe? You are smart, and are unsure, a trait for Ravenclaw. Yet, Gryffindor stays strong with you, as it had for your father. You love Ophelia Black, and would do anything to protect those who harm her. You are loyal to her more than anyone else. Yet, when it comes to a plan, it seems you were the one who saved their backs..._

_Troublesome it may be, but you are more Ravenclaw than Hufflepuff...More Slytherin than Gryffindor..._

_"SLYTHERIN!"_

Ophelia intakes a sharp breath. She could care less for what house she got. She more liekly was afraid of the people in that house...

Darcy removes the dusty hat off her head and smiles warmly at Ophelia, signing, " _Is that a good house?_ "

Ophelia hugged Dacry tightly. "Honey, any house would've been fine. So long as you don't change who  _you_ are, okay?"

Dumbledore once again eyed the two women. So caring Ophelia was, and so giving as Darcy was, the relationship was a match in heaven.

"Well, that concludes the sorting! I will send some house elves to prepare your dormitory. As for you, Ophelia, we will discuss where you will  _teach_."

Sooner than Darcy thought, an elf came and tugged on her jacket sleeve. She hesitantly looked at Ophelia. " _Should I go now?_ " she signed.

"Go on, dear."

After a while of silence, Dumbledore states, "Darcy's father is in Azkaban," and was given back a nod from Ophelia. "Have you told her of her past? Of the evil that separated her family?"

Ophelia swallows. "She has a gist of it. She knows about her father, and her parents being insane. I just...wasn't sure if it was safe for her when I told her."

"Does she question why you never tell her?"

"Darcy and I love each other, Dumbledore," Ophelia tightly replied. "If she wanted to go, she could have a long time ago."

"I do believe that," Dumbledore inquired, "but would the Order? You know exactly how tedious and taught they are now. Especially Mad-Eye, not so sure of Remus..."

Taking a deep breath, she says, "I am ready to face any trouble, Albus. I'm not a child. I knew what I was doing—I did my best to keep James and Lily hidden from Voldemort. I tried my best to hide Darcy from the remaining Death Eaters."

Albus nods. "Well, we should move quickly, shouldn't we? Oh—did your hair just change color? I never knew you were a  _metamorphagus_."

She hurriedly changes her hair back to the dark black it was before. "I discovered it in seventh year—didn't really like showing it a lot."

"Your cousin's daughter, Nymphadora, has the same ability," Albus smiles, "It must run in the family don't you think?"

Ophelia lightly smiled back.  _No, I was the bastard child who was never really a "Black."_

When Ophelia was about to leave, Dumbledore said, "I believe you are more credentialed in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Muggle Studies?"

Ophelia nodded. "I spent a lot of time in America. The housing there sort of forced us to leave with them. Darcy was forced to leave her wand at school, though, she has it know. I studied there for a while...Defense was already something I wanted do after Hogwarts..."

"I see," Dumbledore hummed. "Do you wish to have two classes of Muggle Studies?"

"Yes. I can allow myself a Defense class..."

"Oh then, I think you would be a perfect substitute for our current Defense teacher."

"And who would that be?"

"Remus Lupin."

Ophelia gaped at her old professor. "Remus is teaching? Does anyone know of his condition?"

"A few staff members, Ophelia. You needn't worry, he's a grown man."  
  
  


. . . .

**1970**

**Life with the Black's**

___________

The early  seventies of Ophelia Blacks life were incredible hell. Abuse by Walburga was sometimes the highlight of her day, because it gave Ophelia more reason to hate that bloody wench. And sometimes, it made her biological father, felt a deep regret of ever having an affair with the woman who apparently was Pure-blood (Orion isn't sure if Ophelia was pure-blood). Ophelia couldn't blame the git, Walburga was the devious and cruelest woman you'll ever meet.

What Orion deeply regretted was the fact that Ophelia was born a week prior to their first son's, and the day of November third, when Sirius was born, Ophelia was brought upon Twelve Grimmauld Place by the Minister of Magic.

It was then that the Minister had appointed the Black family as Ophelia's new family. Her mother, who did happen to be a pure-blood, had been killed in her hospital bed. It was said that the mother had been associated with muggles. It was a tedious and angering thought that Walburga had rolled around in her thoughts about taking in the child that day. She did, nonetheless, because throwing away a pure-blood would've been  _heinous_.

He felt bad, knowing what Dark thought possessed the family. The only thing that he could hope for the infant child was that she was courageous, and kind and defiant.

And that, she was. She was like Cinderella, except with the dark hair that seemed to be a trait in the Black family.

Though, she did  _not_  have it like Cinderella. It was the mere concept that was similar between the two contrasting women. Ophelia was abused, severely by Bellatrix when she'd entered her fifth year, whom was appointed by Walburga. Walburga did not  _dirty_  her hands when dealing with the bastard child Orion had created. This was his punishment for having an affair.

This was the reason why Sirius had rejected his families ideals. It was cruelty he saw when Ophelia was shoved down the stair of the small house. It was the spells that Bellatrix casted--bat-bogey hexes, etc--that made Sirius see how  _wrong_  his family is.

Sirius was forced to watch his sister (though they referred to each other as twins, Sirius was well aware of Ophelia's mother) when he was ten, along with their eight year old brother, Regulus, be humiliated. If anything, Sirius has known all along that what they did to OPhelia was wrong. Though, he was beaten by his mother. It wasn't much, but it was enough to know that he wasn't  _old_ enough to stand his ground.

There were times when Walburga would invite the closest relatives of the Black family. Druella, with her heavy lids that were inherited down to Bellatrix, with Andromeda (Sirius and Ophelia's favorite cousin), and Narcissa (a very quiet lady, she was). It was for the inarguruable name placement for the three newest Blacks on the tapestry.

Sirius and Ophelia were on the verge of turning eleven. They've already reserved their invitation to Hogwarts. The two sibling were beyond relief to know that they would  _leave_ the bloody house. Of course, the beatings had become less as Bellatrix began finding better things to jinx. Andromeda was a year later to be married to a muggle-born man named Ted Tonks. It was a very impeding thought, that their own cousin had managed to escape the grasps of the Black family.

It was eve of September the first, a near year after they turned eleven, when Ophelia had found herself able to turn her hair into whichever color she wanted. Andromeda got her face blasted by Druella on the family tapestry.

"Demented brat!" Druella had screeched with a loud  _boom_  from underneath Ophelia's small room. It was then that Sirius busted into her room, his eyes wide with fear. Then, he saw his sister curled at the edge of the bed and came over to her bed. He draped an arm over her shoulder.

"It's Andromeda," whispered Ophelia, her voice wavering. "They've...Sirius, what if they do that to us?"

Sirius shook his head and tugged her closer to him. "No one's going to touch you, Philly."

It was then, that Ophelia's hair had turned to a darker shade, indicating the dark thoughts she possessed.

"Philly--Philly! You're hair!" he gasped. He twirled her around so that she was was facing him. "It's black!"

For moment, Ophelia didn't understand what he was talking about. Wasn't her hair already black? And if not, it could be the lack of light Walburga allowed in the tiny compartment.

"Sirius, stop, it's not the time to joke," Ophelia muttered, her eyes casting down to the hair over her shoulders--

" _No_ ," whispered Ophelia, her voice cracking with fear. She yanked her hair in front of her, and it was indeed the color of black. "Sirius!"

He stared at awe, the color of her hair was a brown, much like his. It's what made them seem like twins--with their pale skin, and almost identical smiles (that they secretly shared while brushing their teeth).

Now, Ophelia looked more like Bellatrix. The droopy lids of Ophelia's crying resembled much of Bellatrix. It disturbed Sirius for a moment. What could've caused this?

"Philly, I-I don't know!" gasped Sirius after a moment. "I could've sworn that the past eleven years of out life you had brown hair."

Ophelia glared at her brother. He thought that his joke would lighten the mood. " _Shut up_ , Sirius! I can't go down to dinner like this. She'll beat me up!"

Sirius did take into account that Walburga would accuse Ophelia of using muggle hair dye.

"I'll tell them that--that you're sick! I can get the--"

"She wouldn't care," snapped Ophelia as she jumped from her bed. "She would grab me by the hair, and drag me down the stairs like I was a doll--"

"Sirius?" Regulus's little and quiet voice said. "Mum said it's dinner. She'll get extremely angry if you don't come down."

Sirius laid his sister back down on her bed. She took it as cue to fake cough, and cover herself with a blanket.

"I'm coming down, Reg," Sirius sighed. He walked over to his little brother as they went down the stairs.

Regulus peered up at Sirius. "Why's Ophelia not joining us?"

Sirius shrugged. "She's just not going to, I thought you didn't care about Philly."

Regulus composed himself. He set a stone face and looked away from Sirius. "You're right, I don't," and stomped down the stairs.

"Oh, my precious nephew!" cried the voice of Druella as she ran over to Regulus. "My sweet, innocent nephew. God bless your children, Walburga, for you don't have a devious blood traitor like my own!"

Sirius saw his father exit his bedroom and address Druella formerly. "Take a seat, please, Druella. Kreacher will assist you..."

And from behind Sirius, came the ugly elf. He mutters derogatory phrases under his breathe and glared at him.

"Go along," hissed Sirius, kicking the elf in the arse, "don't stare, it's rude."

The elf quickly apparated to the dining room down the hall. Sirius suddenly didn't want to join his family in dinner. He'd much rather starve than be with them instead of Philly.

And he didn't eat with them. Quickly, Sirius ran up the stairs to Philly's room. He knocked on the door.

"Philly," he loudly whispered, "let me in!"

The door quickly opened, and Ophelia pulled him in, shutting the door behind her. "What've you done, Sirius?" she whispered, her hands frantically searching for the light.

Sirius reached over and turned on the light from his side. Surprisingly, he say that her hair had turn to the regular brown. He sighed in releif.

"You're hairs normal," Sirius stated.

"I noticed," she replied, twirling the long strands in her hands. "It turned yellow a few minutes before you came back."

"What? Really?"

Ophelia nodded, her eyes darted to the open book that was lit by the small lamp light. "I think I'm and animagus?--Oh wait no. I meant metamorphagus. I can change my appearance--but an animagus would be equally cooler. They can transform to their patronus--!"

"Philly," laughed Sirius, "I have no idea what you're saying!" but he reached over and hugge dhis sister.

"We're going to Hogwarts tomorrow, Sirius," mumbled Philly into his shoulder. "We'll be free for the school year."

"We'll be in the same house," mused Sirius, "I'd hate to be in Slytherin--I know for a fact we aren't."

"But what if we are?"

"Then," sighed Sirius, "were gonna have to get into Gryffindor. One way or the other."

"And if  _you_  get into Gryffindor?"

"Blimey, Philly, don't. We'll be together--no matter what  _house_!"

Ophelia smiled warmly at her brother. She looked over at her room door and pondered: "When do you think we'll run away?"

Sirius grabbed her hand and held it close to him. "Soon. Not next year, or the next--but soon."

And with that, Ophelia felt secure. Sirius had stuck with her, the illegitimate daughter of Orion Black. He tried his best to protect her, but they were only little kids living with dangerous people. Bravery and loyalty can only extend so far until they are released to the open...

 


	3. merry christmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just an fyi this is such a cringe story i wrote two years ago an am too lazy to edit lol  
> a/n: sorry if there are typos. i worked really fast on this. Also, i changed darcy to be a slytherin. i just think this fits into the story more (*sly face*) i really can't wait lololol. ALso, there's another flashback for Ophelia (excuse the typos lol) :))

"Harry, you—you look  _terrible_."

Harry hadn't gotten much sleep until daybreak. He had awoken to find the dormitory deserted, dressed, and gone down the spiral staircase to a common room that was completely empty except for Ron and Hermione.

"Where is everyone?" said Harry.

"Gone! It's the holidays, remember?" said Ron, watching Harry closely. "it's nearly lunchtime; I was going to wake you up in a minute."

Harry slumped into a chair next to the fire. Snow was still falling outside the windows. Crookshanks was spread out in front of the fire like a large, ginger rug.

"You really don't look well, you know," Hermione said, peering anxiously into his face.

"I'm fine," said Harry.

"Harry, listen..."

And the two were telling him to not go after Sirius, even though he so badly wanted to. So badly wanted to kill the man that betrayed his family. Yet, at the same time, what held him back was his supposed sister, Ophelia Black. And what intrigued him more was the fact that there was another Longbottom.

Then, Ron had the brilliant idea to meet with Hagrid, which Harry shortly replied that he really  _wanted_  to.

The three head out of the portrait hole, down through the almost empty castle and out the oak front doors.

They made their way down slowly to Hagrid's hut, but when they knocked on his door, there was no answer.

"He's not out, is he?" said Hermione, who was shivering under her cloak.

When Ron was about to put his ear to the door, it snapped back harshly and Ron fell over only to be caught by Ophelia.

There was a moment of shock as the trio—especially Harry—saw Ophelia in a warm faux coat and leather boots.

"Whoa there ginger," coughed Ophelia, her accent was thin and more American than before. "Hagrid's caught up—"

At the same time Ophelia stopped as she laid her eyes upon Harry, the trio was distracted when they heard throbbing moans that came from behind her.

"Hagrid!" called Harry and he stumbled up the door.

Ophelia grabbed his shoulder. "Now's not the time—"

"Ye've heard?" Hagrid bellowed, and he flung himself from behind Ophelia and unto Harry.

Ophelia steered the three plus the half-giant furthermore inside and shut the door. She placed a letter in front of them as Hagrid had tears running down his face.

"What's this?" Harry questioned.

Hagrid's sobs redoubled, but he shoved the letter towards Harry, who picked it up and read aloud.

_Dear Mr. Hagrid,_

_Further to out inquiry into the attack by a hippogriff on a student in your class...you're hearing will take place on April 20th, and we ask you to present yourself...in the meantime you must keep the hippogriff tethered and isolated_.

"Oh," said Ron. "But you said Buckbeak isn't a bad hippogriff, Hagrid. I bet he'll get off—"

"Yeh don' know them gargoyles at the committee fer the Disposal o' Dangerous Creatures!" chocked Hagrid, who Ophelia seemed to have gave a sympathetic sigh. It still confused Harry as to why she was here when she blew up in Hagrid yesterday. "They've got it fer intersetin' creatures!"

After much talk of what Buckebeak's case was, it was declared that there couldn't possibly be any hope for the cute creature.

"I'm sorry, Hagrid, I know how much you liked Buckbeak," sighed Ophelia. Then, quietly she said, "But I think I know a place where I can keep him—you can say that he broke his chains..."

It was a meek attempt to make Hagrid feel better. Harry turned to the woman and eyed her suspiciously.

"When've you come down here?" he said to Ophelia. "Not seen you in the term."

Ophelia bristled as she stared down at the tan boy who depicted much of James. "Ophelia Black," she said. "I'll be the new muggle studies teacher—and I'll be the substitute for Defense Against the Dark Arts as well."

"Since when did Mrs. Crawford resign?" Hermione said. "She's the Muggle Studies teacher I had."

"Wait, isn't that class the same period as potions?" Ron added.

"Mrs. Crawford had maternity leave," Ophelia shortly said.

"Professor Lupin isn't sick, is he?" Harry said. He had a meeting with him for the Patronus spell.

Ophelia hesitated. "We tend to take turns. I'll take a week for him, and he has three."

Hermione was about to ask why taking a week from Professor Lupin was necessary, but Hagrid insisted that the three should leave, since it was almost dark.

"Ophelia and I've got some talkin' tah do, 'arry," he shortly responded.

There was no questioning, since they were already outside.

After opening presents, they went down to the Great Hall, to find that the tables had been moved against the walls again, and the single table, set for thirteen, stood in the middle of the room. Professor's Dumbledore, McGonagall, Sprout, Flitwick, and Black were there, along with Flich. There were four other students, two extremely nervous first-years, a Slytherin fifth year, and a Slytherin girl who sat closest to Professor Black.

"Merry Christmas!" Dumbledore said as Harry, Ron, and Hermione approached the table. "Dive in!"

Ophelia and the Slytherin girl were smiling to each other. The girl moved her hands rapidly, her dark brown hair swishing along with her shoulders. She had very tan skin, and from where Harry was, he saw that her eyes were a milky hazel. Ophelia and she looked nothing alike, and then it clicked.

"That's her," Harry whispered to Hermione and Ron. "That's Darcy _Black._ That's his daughter."

Hermione swooshed her thick curly hair away from her face, and Ron scrunched his face at Darcy.

"That's Black's daughter?" said Ron, noticing the rather nice features. "She sure doesn't look like Ophelia, I'll tell you that..."

Hermione punched Ron's shoulder. 

"Calm down, Hermione! I only meant that they didn't look alike!"

Harry tugged on Ron's sweater. "She's in  _Slytherin_?" he questioned.

Her robes were the green of the house. Ophelia and she were quickly moving their hand, like sign language, as they seized their eating.

"What'd you supposed she's probably one of them pure-blood freaks?" Ron trailed off as the doors of the Great Hall opened again. It was Professor Trelawney, gliding towards them as though on wheels. She had put on a green sequined dress in honor of the occasion, making her look more than ever like a glittering oversized dragonfly.

"Sybil, this is a pleasant surprise!" said Dumbledore, standing up.

"I have been crystal gazing, Headmaster," said Trelawney in her mistiest, most faraway voice, "and to my astonishment, I saw myself abandoning my solitary luncheon and coming to join you. Who am I to refuse the promptings of fate? I at once hastened from my tower..."

"Certainly, certainly," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "Let me draw you up a chair."

With a flick of his wand, he brought up a chair right next to Ophelia's left side.

"Do sit down, the turkey's getting stone cold," he said. She did.

Ophelia lifted a plate over the table with her wand. "Tripe, Sybil?" she asked.

But Trelawney ignored her question and asked, "But where is dear Professor Lupin?"

"I'm afraid the poor fellow is ill again," said Dumbledore, indicating that everyone should start serving themselves. "Most unfortunate that it would happen on Christmas day."

"But, surely you already knew that, Sybill?" said Ophelia—or Professor Black, her eyebrows raised.

Trelawney gave Black a very cold look.

"Certainly, I knew, Black," she said quietly. "But one does not parade the fact that on is All-Knowing. I frequently act as though I am not possessed by the inner-eye, so as not to make others nervous."

"That explains a great deal," snorted Professor Black. "Just how you predicted my brother's capture," she added more to herself.

"If you must know, Ophelia, I have seen that poor Professor Lupin will not be with us for very long. He seems aware himself that his time is short. He positively fled when I offered to crystal gaze for him—"

"Imagine that," said Professor McGonagall dryly.

"I doubt," said Dumbledore, in a cheerful but slightly raised voice, which put an end between the three female professor's conversation, "that Professor Lupin is in any immediate danger."

Ophelia glared across the table at Snape. "Yeah. Severus, did you make the potion or him?" she said, rather skeptically.

"Yes, Black," he shortly snapped.

"Oh, good then," said Dumbledore warningly. "Then he should be up and about in no time, Professor Black...Darcy, have you had any of these chipolatas? They're excellent."

The third year Slytherins' cheeks tinted red on being pointed out in public. She smiled lightly and nervously played with the ever-so color dark hair and signed Professor Black to hand her the plate.

The dinner had passed two hours later, when everyone's stomach had begun to bust out of their pants. Still wearing their party hats, Harry and Ron got up first, as well as Professor Black and Darcy Black.

"Harry!" called Professor Black, her body just shielding Darcy. The two boy stopped and turned around. When the woman got closer, she said quietly, "Professor Lupin wanted me to tell that I'll be teaching your classes with him."

Darcy was so close to Professor Black, that it was really hard for Harry not to stare at her. She looked so different than Neville, they couldn't be the faintest of siblings.

Harry realized he had been staring for too long when Darcy blushed a deep red.

"Also, my daughter will be accompanying me as well," added Professor Black, her hand instinctively reaching for the girl.

Darcy flinched, and she moved her hands again. Professor Black nodded, a little hurt in her eyes, as she watched Darcy walk away as fast as she could.

Harry did as well, but turned around. "Do you know Professor Lupin, like, personally?"

He didn't like that she was tagging along. He knew who she was—and he also knew that Darcy wasn't her daughter. He didn't know why the professor was lying to her, and why she said that Darcy was her daughter. He hated that, even though he knew the truth, people never did tell  _him_ the truth.

Professor Black tightly smiled and she went a little pink in the cheeks. Harry found that odd.

"Much—I mean, I do, very much—since I was in Hogwarts—oh, Harry, it appears your friend wants to leave."

Indeed, Ron was strolling around waiting and bonking his head on nothing. When he saw that Harry noticed, he urged this to fasten up.

"Very well, Professor Black," Harry tartly replied and snapped around towards the common rooms.

Ron had tried to keep up with the boy, yelling, "Mate, hold up! Jeez, what's got you all mad?"

"Her," said Harry in disgust. "She, of course her—she thinks her Sirius Black is  _innocent_ , and then she goes on saying that she'll be teaching me with Professor Lupin. It's like she wants to rub in that she's related him!"

Ron stared wide-eyed at Harry's prejudice-like thoughts. "Chill, Harry. Maybe she's just trying to say that not all Slytherin families have Slytherin children—you heard before, she was a  _Hufflepuff_ , and was a spy of Dumbledore's!"

"Ron, you don't get it," spat Harry. "She could've been my  _mother_. I would've been related to  _Sirius Black_."

Ron was taken aback, but he let his best friend brood even more when Professor McGonagall took the firebolt Harry got.

. . . .

 **1970**  
**The King's Cross**  
__________________________

The siblings walked ahead of their family at King's Cross, already feeling the freedom of being outside. They haven't made it to Platform nine and three quarters.

Walburga was the first to scorn the children. "Come back here, Sirius! We must stick closer together."

Sirius had turned around and stared blankly at his mother. He held onto Philly's elbow and nudged her to stop.

"But mum, were late!" He whined, slowly beginning to walk backwards with Philly.

Orion was the first to snap. "Your mother has something to say, Sirius... And, Ophelia, walk with me."

The two siblings have their respective parents a confused glance as they separated. Ophelia headed farthest away from the train with her father as Sirius went straight along with his mother.

Orion wore a black coat, with trinkets like silver and jewels that hung on the waist of his pants. He took pride in what he wore. Not that Ophelia had a special place in heart for the man, but she understood what she saw.

She understands a lot more than they thought she did.

Orion sighed as he looked behind them. "Ophelia," he began, "where do I start with you?"

Ophelia said nothing as she walked by his side. She began to feel her throat constrict.

"You're illegitimacy has brought the noble house of Black a bad reputation," he said accusingly. "But, alas, I was very much in relief when you were pure-blood instead of half-blood. You see, the woman that was your mother died a blood traitor's death. She was all but trying to spite me, you see, and I did fall for her  _callous_  and inappropriate actions."

Orion stopped near a bench to check on the time and resumed walking. He turned his chest around and stiffly stared down at her with cold, icy, blue eyes. "All Black's have been in the house of Slytherin. We have great pride in this, and if...oh, if, you were to be in that house, Walburga would treat you like her own."

Ophelia stopped abruptly at the last sentence of Orion's. The cart that held her black cat in his cage had toppled over, making the feline hiss in fear. She stumbles to pick it up as people stare around her.

Then to her twisted father, she said, "Walburga's daughter?"

Orion took this as shock, and maybe even excitement. His smile was arrogant as he said, "Yes, you can redeem yourself."

"I don't care about being Walburga's daughter," said Ophelia quietly. "You've stood by her, ordering Bellatrix to hurt me. What mother or father would do that to their daughter?"

Orion bristled with irritation. "You were to be punished for your mothers filthy crimes--associating herself with  _muggle_. It was the only way that Walburga could cope that I had an affair."

"How could you be so open?" said Ophelia as she roughly pushed her cart. "You cheated on your wife. It's...and yet you talk to me like it was a simple stain on a shirt."

"Because it was," Orion said. He watched around place. "Look at us, Ophelia. Wizards forced to hide from muggle filth! Just be glad that Walburga even allowed you to come to Hogwarts."

Ophelia began breathing heavily. Her eyes scanned the rough looks of Orion. This man talks so much against muggles and muggle borns. So wrong he is. So wrong his family is.

She had no words to say to him. She could tell her father was growing irritated. For years, he and Walburga had tried to brainwash their children. For years, it had failed when Sirius saw his sister punished for an act that seemed like nothing. 

Orion sighed once again. "This is the platform," he said. "All you have to do is go through the brick wall."

Ophelia searched around the train station. "Where's Sirius?"

Right on her words, Sirius stormed up to Orion and Ophelia. "Is this the wall?" he said, his face haughty.

Orion drafted a look of  approval at him. "Where's your mother, Sirius?"

Sirius pulled Ophelia by the elbow.  "You ready?" he hastily said. Without any words, he pushed on forward and the two walked through the wall.

Surprised, Ophelia stared agape at the much familiar platform she had been told about. It was like a replica, except wizards wore their colorful robes. Children were giving their goodbyes as they boarded the train.

"Quick, Philly, we have to go," Sirius said. He was about to reach for her hand but she pushed it away.

"What happened, Sirius?" she said. "Orion and Walburga are going to be  _furious_."

He shrugged and lightly pushed her shoulder to move. "We've got a whole school year! Let's go before they catch us!"

"But-but,  _Sirius_ \--!"

She didn't finish, because a man in his train uniform took their cases and handed them their animals. Sirius and Ophelia quickly boarded the train with their animals. They were paraded with kids going the opposite direction of them, and were every so often shoved to the side.

Finally, they found a compartment that wasn't entirely full and bustled inside.

The minute their butts sat down, Sirius said, "Mum said she was going to disown me if I wasn't in Slytherin." He finished with a dry laugh.

"Orion said it would redeem me for being my mother's daughter," said Ophelia quietly.

"Well," chirped Sirius, "we shouldn't worry about them for the year. Do you want to stay for Christmas? Just the two of us?"

"We can do that?" Ophelia said. "Walburga and Orion won't force us?"

"Of course they can't! They wouldn't want us because we won't be in Slytherin!"

His happy attitude seemed to lightened Opehlia's as well. She smiled warmly at her brother and hugged him by the side. 

"I wouldn't care which house I would be in. So long as it's not--"

"Slytherin!" Sirius finished for her. 

There was a light knock from the compartment door as it opened. A boy with tousled brown hair, and brown eyes stood there awkwardly with his caged tawny owl. He smiled sheepishly at the siblings.

"Mind if I take a seat? All the other compartments are either full or..."

"No, we don't mind," Sirius said. 

The boy stumbled inside, placing his owls' cage on the compartment above him. "I'm James Potter, by the way," the boy said, his body now sitting on the seat across.

Ophelia looked over at Sirius, her eyes widened in surprise. At the Black house, Walburga and Orion have said quite a deal about the Potters'. She recalled being so in awe of the family--defying all prejudice pure-blood thoughts. She sometimes envied the Potter's the more Walburga defaced the name.

Sirius seemed to catch his name. He smiled brightly at James. "Sirius and Ophelia Black," he said for the both of them. 

And at that, James seemed to recognize their names. "Oh," said James.

"Philly and I were just talking about which houses we could be in," Sirius quickly added, not realizing that, like the Potter name in the wizarding community, the Black's were well-known.

Ophelia nodded along with her brother. "We're surely not going to be in Slytherin."

"Instead--we'll be Gryffindor!" Sirus exclaimed, smiling widely at his sister, whose smile dimmed at the mention of Gryffindor.

"Or Ravenclaw," Ophelia half-heatedly said. Then, another boy had appeared at their compartment. Her smile dimmed even more at the sight of the boy. He had scars on his face that reminded her of the curses Bellatrix had done on her.

Ophelia stood up and opened the compartment for him, as he had loads of books in his hands. 

"Here," she said with a kind smile and took his trunk, "let me get that." 

"Oh," he said, shocked, "thank you very much." He set down his books near James.

Ophelia was struggling to even lift the trunk. Then, the train began moving and it made Ophelia topple over. James hurried over to her side, and she flushed.

"I can do this," grunted Ophelia.

"I bet I couldn't lift this--blimey, mate, you got a library in here?" James said. He and Ophelia managed to push the trunk on the shelf above them and huffed out a breath.

"My name's Remus," grunted the boy. "And I've got a few more books in there, yes."

"Now that," Sirius said and pointed to Remus, "is a Ravenclaw. Oh--just imagine being those little Hufflepuffs!"

Ophelia paid no attention to James and Sirius joking about how great Gyrffindor was. She was interested on the book Remus was reading.

"Is that  _Hogwarts: A History_?" she said. 

Remus nodded, but looked back down to his book. 

"Orion and Walburga didn't get us that," Ophelia said to Sirius. 

Sirius looked over at Remus' books. "Huh, they didn't."

"All we did at Diagon Alley was get our robes and wands."

James looked oddly at Ophelia. "Do you always call your mum and dad by their names? Is that what prejudice families do?"

Ophelia glanced over at Sirius, then to steady on James. "Sirius and I don't have the same mum--but we share a father."

Sirius nodded. "Either way, their both dreadful towards us..more so Philly," he said.

James' eyes wandered over to Ophelia, who was intently looking outside the window. They were barely reaching the countryside of England.

"That's horrid," James whispered, more to himself as he didn't mean for Ophelia to hear.

"It is," she said steadily, "but I have Sirius."

Sirius smiled lightly at James, but his eyes told him that it was time to drop the subject.

"So," coughed James, his ever so bright smile appeared again, "you think you'll make it to Gryffindor?"

"Oh yeah," said Sirius and he smiled deviously. "Just to spite my parents--oh they would hate me so much!"

Ophelia glanced over at James, who was now waiting on her answer. 

"Me?" said Ophelia incredulously. "I wouldn't care what house I was in. Ravenclaw seemed more fitting for me, though."

"Philly," whined Sirius playfully, "oh, please, don't!"

"Oh shut it," said Ophelia, though there was an evident smile on her face. "We all can't be brave enough to  _defy_."

"I'm with you," Remus said, bookmarking his page on his book. "Not all of the best wizard's were Gryffindor's--some of them aren't even from Hogwarts, but from North America."

"I heard about that!" exclaimed Ophelia. "My transfiguration book was from a professor from Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

Remus brightened at the mention of Ilvermorny. "You've heard of that school?"

Ophelia nodded virgorously. "Yeah! Remember, Sirius, when we got our letter from Hogwarts, they recommended me for Ilvermorny! Oh, I wished I went there!"

Sirius gave his sister and odd look. "You never told  _me_ you wanted to go to Ilvermorny."

"Of course I did! Remember? North America doesn't have pure-blood families--and if so, then they aren't prejudice because America was more lenient. But Walburga burned my letter--saying that the entire country needed to be burned to the ground."

James and Remus cringed. "You're parents are ruthless, aren't they?" Remus said sadly.

"Enough about family," Sirius said, waving his hand. "Look! The Trolley Witch!"

And with that, the four students hurried over to the Trolley Witch. Ophelia and Sirius bought four chocolate frogs, along with some lime fizz for Philly. James purchased a few licorice wands and a fizzy drink, as did Remus also bought the chocolate wands and frogs.

When eating their stuff, Ophelia clinked her fizz with James as they both competed with who could have the loudest burp. Remus and Sirius both teased James when he lost against Philly's powerful burp. 

And for that moment, the Black sibling were happy and completely forgot about their family. Remus and James made them feel more happy and bright. 

They felt like they had friends.

 

 

 

**Published november 2nd, 2016**

**added backstory november 5th, 2016**

**edited plot on november 6th, 2016**


	4. the patronus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/n: another flashback to Ophelia's past :)) also, excuse the typos lololol. [Also, I just free wrote the patronus part!!!!]

**_A/n: another flashback to Ophelia's past :)) also, excuse the typos lololol. [Also, I just free wrote the patronus part!!!!]_ **

Darcy's cheeks were flaming red when Professor Snape called her out as "Darcy Black."

All eyes were pointed towards her, and they seemed to fixing on why she was  _a new student_. Since brith, Darcy had been under the care of Ophelia Black. .

Darcy wasn't  _ignorant_. Ophelia only ever said that Darcy was related to her, and left it at that. Darcy also assumed that Dumbledore knew who her parents were, since he and her caretaker switched very cryptic words in his office.

When Ophelia said that Darcy was her daughter, she caught the sour face that Harry Potter had. It was like he caught a lie, and it made her very uncomfortable.

Darcy raised her hand, indicating she was present.

"Another  _Black_ , it appears?" Snape confirmed. He seemed to take satisfaction as she squirmed under his intense and menacing glare.

Like Harry, everyone else was shocked to see the girl in at the back. If she was a Black, how could she have just come in this late in the year?

The girl didn't say a word, but nodded in response. Her cheeks were flaming in embarrassment. Around the class, there were whispers.

" _A Black? As in Sirius Black?_ "

Harry, from the other side of the room, had become more confused as ever. Why would Ophelia cover up Darcy as her daughter if on the records it would appear as Sirius was her father? It infuriated the teen boy, and made it more prone for him to search who exactly Darcy was. Which meant he was very much looking forward to Professor Lupin's lesson after school.

The duration of potions, she was partnered up with another boy from Ravenclaw. He had hazel eyes and a very slim face that oddly reminded her of the Stalk of a Celery Monster. He wasn't horribly thin, but he could use a little sun bathe...though that could make him red.

The two barely talked, but when asked by the Ravenclaw boy where she came from, she froze.

Her brown eyes widened and she almost felt like she couldn't speak. Then, embarrassingly, she wrote down:  _North America_.

The Ravenclaw boy's eyes widened. "No way!" he said. "You've come from way over there and yet you're--hey, why can't you speak?"

On the parchment paper she had, she wrote, _I was cursed to be silent_. She gave the paper to him, and smiled shyly.

"Really?" he said and she nodded. "Well, that's interesting. It must've been a dark silencing charm..."

_I was told it was. What was your name?_

"Oh, it's Roland Abberly," he said. "Are you by any chance related to the Sirius Black?"

Darcy glanced around the potions class. Then, she wrote,  _I've not heard much about him, but I'm his niece._ Though it was a lie, she had to do this for the sake of Ophelia. 

Roland's droopy eyes seemed to double in their size.  "Bloody hell, so you are related to that killer!"

Darcy flinched, her face becoming redder than the Gryffindor ties. Sadly, Snape had caught the two partners pass each other notes.

"Miss Black, Mr. Abberly," drawled Snape. "If you please, refrain from passing notes as you have a potion that is due by the end of the period." This caused the class to pause a slight moment from their potions.

Roland glared daggers at the teacher. "Darcy can't speak, Professor."

"Well that shouldn't be a problem, since Miss Black has eyes that can read," said Snape. "There was never any need to communicate."

Swiftly, he made his way to their side of the table. He held his hand out, looking expectantly at Darcy to hand the parchment she just wrote on. She did, begrudgingly.

"'I've not heard much about him, but I am his niece.'" Snape read aloud. This caused the room to burst out in whispers. "Settle down, class. I'm sure you all will now know what will happen when you pass pathetic notes."

Darcy and Roland both blush, and turn heatedly back to their potions. Under his breath, Roland mutters the ingredients, and often asks for Darcy to fetch him something. She does so, since there was no point in speaking to each other.

Sometimes Darcy would look around the class to see where everyone was at. Though, she stopped when her eyes met with the green eyes that almost knew so much about her. She blushed, and turned back to Roland, who was passing her a green liquid.

When the class was done, she and Roland said their good-byes. After a while of doing homework, Darcy  made her way to the Great Hall. There, the four tables of the houses were. Suddenly, Darcy got a little panicky as where to sit at the Slytherin table. It was almost a anxiety attack, since at Ilvermorny Darcy had few mutuals. Why couldn't she just skip?

Thankfully, though she didn't know who the people were at first, a boy with white blonde hair had shouted at her. "Black! Sit with us!"

She was taken aback, since he was surrounded by a maul of people that were looking at her. With heavy feet, she made her way to the anonymous people and sat down across from the blonde boy.

There was a girl with pig-like features and brown straight hair that sat next to the blonde boy. Then, on his right, there were two buff and pudgy boys that strikingly looked the same. Next to Darcy, there was a boy with dark skin whose torso seemed to loom over the table. Her side of the table was facing the entirety of the hall.

Darcy gave the blonde boy a grateful look. 

"So, Black, I've heard that you couldn't talk," said the blonde boy. "Seems pretty odd for such a noble name like yours."

Darcy gave him a confused look. 

"Well, my mum was a Black," said the blonde boy, his face smug with a sort of superiority. "Purest blood that could date back to centuries."

At that, it dawned on Darcy the situation and people she just got mixed into. She pulled out a piece of parchment and wrote to the boy:  _What's your name?_

"Draco Malfoy," he smugly said. "What school did you go to?"

Her relaxed posture now turned stiff.  _Ilvermorny in North America. My mum got a job, here at Hogwarts._

The pug-like girl was the first to speak up. "That mock-up of Hogwarts?"

"Thank god you made it here! I heard that there were no pure-blood families over in North America!" said the tallest of the pudgy boys. "They all accept muggle-wizard relationships!"

Darcy's eyes widened.  _I don't see the problem with that..._

"Oh no!" The dark-skinned boy said. "They've already gotten to her!" he laughed dryly.

Darcy glared at the the boy and began to sit up from her seat. She wished she could yell at them. But, alas, her silence perceived her as a calm and visible target.

"Where are you going? Running off to that muggle-loving mum of yours?" Malfoy taunted as she walked away.

Her eyes stung a little, feeling embarrassed that she couldn't stand up for herself--that this horrid mute mouth of hers can't speak. She quickly walked out of the hall, already feeling the other Slytherin's eyes on her back. 

After a few minutes, Darcy had finally made her way back to the library. She saw a table, with one Gryffindor girl with dark and extremely curly hair. Darcy placed her notebook on the table and sat down across from the girl.

The Gryffindor's head looked up from her book and she became a little alert. "Oh, hello," she coughed. 

Darcy smiled lightly back and waved her hand, bringing the book, "Cure of Curses" to her hand. She'd just opened the book, when the Gryffindor girl let out a surprised squeal. 

Her head snapped up, noticing the Gryffindor girl's mouth wide open. Darcy gave her a confused smiled.

"You practice hand spells?" The Gryffindor girl said. "I'm Hermione Granger, by the way--I just couldn't help but ask  _how,_ if your a third year..."

A little disappointed that Darcy couldn't get some quiet time, she still wrote on her notebook:  _I practiced Uagadou methods at Ilvermorny_

"You used to live in America?" Hermione said. "And they taught hand spells?"

Darcy nodded.  _They kept our wands at school so it became useful..._

"How peculiar," said Hermione. "Do you happen to be Professor Black's daughter?"

For a slight moment, Darcy thought she saw a frown appear on Hermione's face. Darcy slowly nodded, and she continued on to her book, searching on reversing what's been done to her. Though, like before, it didn't last long.

"I'm sorry if I'm intruding," said Hermione again. "What exactly are you looking for?"

Darcy was a little annoyed and alittle hesitant to even respond. She knew the hatred between Slytherin and Gryffindor was very strong and coherent in Hogwarts. (What Darcy missed the most about Ilvermorny was that there was no hate or even bullying if you were in a certain house.

Taking her quill, she scribbled messily:  _Reverse cursing._

"Are you not able to speak?" said Hermione, her voice tinged with a much more lighter and sullen tone.

Darcy had nodded, edging the pages of the book she held in her hand.

"If you want to go and reverse any curse, wouldn't potions work better?"

_My mother tried everything. We were going to result in speaking with the merpeople in the lake for a rock..._

Hermion nodded. "Weren't there merpeople in America?"

Darcy placed her book down.  _Merpeople are uncommon. And if you see one, you should run. They're very carnivorous._

"Oh," said Hermione. "It's quite fascinated, you know? I'v never met an American wizard. I heard their teaching was very strict."'

_It is. We're very separated between no-maj and wizards. They even take away our wands after we leave Ilvermorny._

"Is Ilvermorny a wizarding high school?" said Hermione timidly. Darcy noticed that she felt uncomfortable asking so much questions.

_The biggest there is. There's also Salem's Witches and Wizards Academy...plenty others that are smaller. I'm surprised Hogwarts doesn't teach you this, because they told us the entire history of you guys._

"Oh, they've mentioned it a few times..." said Hermione, "but, err, most people thought the school was a joke..."

Oh. Darcy knew why Hermione had been so timid. She didn't want to offend Darcy, like the group of Slytherin's before...

_No, that's fine. I actually admire how Europeans mingle with the no-maj._

"And 'no-maj' is the American term for not magical?"

_Yes._

Hermione nodded. And just when she was going to say something else, the librarian had appeared right behind Darcy.

"IT IS NEAR PAST EIGHT FIFTY, I SUGGEST YOU LEAVE NOW--"

With that, Hermione's eyes widened. "Darcy, we have to go! Quick--grab you're stuff!"

Darcy made no hesitation. She'd forgotten about meeting Ophelia with Professor Lupin and Harry!

. . .

At eight o'clock in the evening at Thursday, Harry walked into the History of Magic and Muggle Studies classroom. It was a big class, especially one for a muggle studies class. Professor Lupin and Black were quietly talking to each other, not realizing that Harry was there.

"Remus, you have to help me," Ophelia said, "she's a good girl--she deserves the right to  _speak_."

Remus gave her a exasperated look, pressing his fingers to the side of his head. "Philly, it isn't simple to reverse a curse like hers--especially if it's undocumented, experimental..." though he didn't get to finish when he saw Harry standing just at the doors.

"Oh, time flew by pretty fast," Remus said, shooting Ophelia a look. "Sorry, Harry. Professor Black and I caught a boggart not long ago..."

Ophelia appeared hurt, but she soon covered it up and walked over to Professor Binn's desk where a black trunk was.

Harry half expected to see Darcy next to Ophelia.

After the two Professor's settled the chest containing the boggart, Remus prepared the speech.

"In order to defend yourself from the boggart when it turns to a dementor, there's a spell you have to cast," he said. "It's very, very advanced magic, Harry. Ministry level magic."

Professor Black nods encouragingly. "Don't feel bad if you can't get it the first few times--even some of the ministry people can't focus well on it."

Harry didn't feel encouraged. He tried numerous times, trying it without the boggart. Though, they decided that maybe he needed a little shove--some motivation to actually do the spell.

And it failed the first time. Harry passed out and Ophelia was just there to catch him.

"Is he even ready, Remus?" said Ophelia, glancing down to the peaceful boys face. He had that lightening bolt scar...It was a cruel reminder of that day Ophelia visited the Potter's house. She noticed how much Harry did resemble...James...

Remus bent down beside Ophelia after he put the boggart back into the chest. "I'm sure he is. He's got a lot heading towards him, Philly..." his voice was sullen, but his eyes didn't leave hers.

Ophelia looked away, back down to the boy who was now fluttering his eyes open. "Hand him the chocolate," whispered Ophelia as she tried to prop up Harry.

Professor Lupin handed Harry a bar of chocolate. Harry took the bar and started munching on it.

"First try," said Professor Black, her voice much more lifted than before. 

"Remember, Harry," said Professor Lupin, "a happy memory. Something that is powerful enough for you to focus." the Professor reached towards the chest, ready to open it.

"Wait!" said Harry. "How does a patronus look like, again?"

"Well, there are two forms," said Professor Lupin. "A corporeal  and non-corporeal form. The powerful of the two is corporeal, each one is unique to the wizard who conjures it. Though, a non-corporeal form is the simplest one that can defend you quite less..."

And so Harry did conjure a patronus, though it was a light wisp that he was quite impressed with. Ophelia had clapped her hands in excitement. 

"That's great, Harry," said Professor Black. "I'm sure you would have a stag as your corporeal patronus."

Harry looked at the professor in question. "How'd you know if that was his patronus?" he said.

Professor Ophelia glanced over at Professor Lupin, a knowing look passed between the two. "I've...seen it myself, actually, Harry. You're father and I were close friends as children."

Harry wasn't surprised and he just nodded. His attention was caught by the tan figure of Darcy standing at the tables.

She seemed breathless, and her hair that was plaited was messy. She looked at her supposed "mother" then over to Harry. She quirked her mouth, like she wanted to speak.

"Darcy," said Professor Black, "you're extremely late...I was hoping to teach you the patronus charm as well."

Darcy moved her hands rapidly, something that Harry now wished to understand.

Professor Black nodded in understanding. "It's alright, Hun," she said, "Harry was just about to leave, right, Professor Lupin?"

The male professor tidied up the classroom desk into their original order. "Yes, it's almost curfew for you students." he lifted the chest with his wand and walked out, though, before he turned around and spoke to Harry. "I'm looking forward to seeing that patronus, Harry."

Harry nodded. "I guess...I should go back to the common rooms," he said and walked off.

Still in the classroom, Darcy turned to Ophelia.  _Is James Potter my father, Ophelia?_  she signed.

Ophelia was so stunned, her mouth hung open in no response. "I've...Darcy, that was a bizarre question."

Darcy shrugged. She had heard Ophelia's sentimental words about Harry's father when asked about the stag patronus. Darcy already ruled off that Sirius Black was  _not_ her father, as she had tan skinned that didn't resemble Ophelia or Sirius. And Darcy did see that Ophelia had a stag patronus as a child, so one could only assumed...Though, if Ophelia was her mother, wouldn't Ophelia refer herself as her mother all those year in America?

_I've heard things, Ophelia. I...I keep hearing that Sirius Black could be my father, but...I look nothing like him. I..._

Ophelia rubbed her temples, crossed whether this was the time... There was nothing wrong, though...Ophelia could tell Darcy the  _truth_  of what happened on October thirty first.

"Sweetie," said Ophelia quietly, her cool eyes stared at her along with her hair changing a slight lighter brown. "You...you shouldn't be ashamed, because...because Sirius Black is your father."

If Darcy was able to make any noise at all, a loud gasp would've been heard throughout the halls. She took a step backwards, her hips hitting the edges of desks. She didn't have to respond for Ophelia to explain.

"Sirius was wrongfully accused, Darcy. And I couldn't bare to tell you, I feared you would grow p differently, hearing all these stories about him being a mass murderer when  _he's most definitely not_."

 _Wouldn't it have been better if you just told before! Then, I would've known what they were saying were lies_! Darcy signed, her heart racing with disbelief. This shouldn't really come to a shock for her, since she always knew that she was related to Ophelia.

"I--I  _should've_ yes," said a defeated Ophelia, her eyes galnced downwards. "I was so young, Darcy. I was barely twenty, and as much fighting as I have done, I was never really capable of caring for a baby when Sirius' had so carelessly gone off to chase Peter."

Darcy looked at Ophelia, whom was slowly cracking down her walls she's been building since seeing James and Lily Potter dead at her feet. Darcy paced her breathing, and she steadily looked at Ophelia.

 _Who was my mother_? signed Darcy. This...this was what would complete everything. The shock had passed. Ophelia wasn't good with hiding most of her emotions, and Darcy didn't want her crying.

Ophelia nodded, her hands absently twisted the ends of her hair. "A beautiful muggle, your mother was," sighed Ophelia. "Anna Maria Sanchez, a waitress that lived in Massachusetts."

Darcy leaned back, her eyes closed. She wished so much to speak, because it gave her a passage to reveal much more emotion. To let her scream in frustration, to tell people her opinions...

Darcy left the room, quietly and quickly, as Ophelia watched her niece with worried eyes.

Then, when Ophelia was sure she was lone, she kicked the desk with force. 

. . . .

**1970**

**The Sorting of Youth**

______________________

The two siblings stayed close to each other, their eyes in awe as the boats got closer to the Hogwarts castle.

The four first years were rushing towards the docks, but the half giant, Hagrid, settled them behind him. Sirius and James whispered to each other as Ophelia and Remus listened intently at Hagrid's attempt to speak coherently for them.

And before you know it, they were heading up that massive doors of Hogwarts, where a woman with graying brown hair and a witches' hat lay in her head stood. She smiled kindly at the first years.

"Thank you, Hagrid, I'll take it from here," she said. "My name is Minerva McGongall, but you will soon address me as Professor McGonagall. Behind me, you will be sorted into one house out of four..." and she went on.

Ophelia grabbed her brother shoulder and smiled brightly at him. Sirius did so back.

. .

"Black, Ophelia!" McGonagall announced in front of the hundreds of students.

And uproar of whispers from the Slytherin table had made Ophelia feel less confident in herself as she walked up to the center of the Great Hall. She sat on the stool, and the ragged old hat that was the Sorting Hat was placed upon her head.

And when it touched her head--it wasn't even a second after when it yelled "HUFFLEPUFF!" to the crowd. It was silent, as it was a Black that got sorted from a house other than Slytherin.

Then, the table of Hufflepuff had erupted into cheers, as did her brother. She walked off to the table, where she was greeted by many first years and the prefect.

It was then, that Sirius was called upon the stool, and the hat had shouted "Gryffindor."

A swell of pride had blossomed inside Ophelia's chest. She shot up from her seat, and cheered along with the Gryffindor table. Although she was more enthusiastic about it from her table, she didn't mind. 

Ophelia's feet carried her to the front of the Great Hall, where she attacked her brother with a death crushing hug. He did so as well, laughing along with her as she clung onto him, whispering, "We made it--we're not Slytherin!"

It was a moment of pure happiness when the Black sibling hugged each other. Ophelia made no attempt to go back to the Hufflepuff table, as she was so caught up with her brother. The Professor didn't bother scolding her to go back, as they saw how this was a memorable moment in their life... The moment they could finally start their own lives.

They could finally crack open the plan they made all those years back...

Remus Lupin and James Potter were sorted into Gryffindor as well. Remus, as he sat down next to Ophelia had said that he was surprised he didn't get into Ravenclaw. SHe smiled kindly at him, telling him she never thought she would be in Hufflepuff.

James sat across from Sirius, and he smiled happily at the three. "Did you see that Snape kid? I saw him holding onto that redhead..."

Sirius glanced over at James. "And what should that worry you? You've not met the girl."

James scrunched his nose at Sirius. "I was only just watching..."

Ophelia narrowed her eyes at James. "Let the two be, will you? If anything, maybe this Snape kid only has the redhead."

It was a very personal passage, one that came from her own heart. Sirius looked over at her sister, reading the terrain. He draped an arm around her shoulder. 

"I love you, Philly," said Sirius, "Just wait til' mum and dad find out we're not in  _Slytherin_."

. . .

The next morning, Ophelia and Sirius sat together along with Remus and James. Her tie and robes had finally transformed, which contrasted with Sirius' red and yellow.

They were mining their breakfast, since they've received their timetables. Most classes Ophelia had with Remus, since they were the two who were most outgoing. She had the first two periods [ transfiguration and history of magic] of the day with the three, and broom practice with Sirius and James as well. Tomorrow, all of them would be sharing potions together and James and she would be in Herbology. The only classes she had with the Hufflepuff's was Defense Against the Dark Art, which was at the end of the day tomorrow.

Then, as the owls poured into the great hall, Sirius and Ophelia saw the first years clamming to get to their owls. Sirius had left his grey owl at the owlery, though it was like Missy (the owls name) had known to do that. Ophelia's cat, Obsidian, had actually been the very few gifts that Orion had given her.

The cat was somewhere in the castle. Ophelia didn't bother much, since the cat had its own life.

And owl, the biggest of them all had landed right in between James and Sirius. Sirius didn't pay attention, as he was glancing at Ophelia's time tables. He hissed when the giant owl had peck his hand.

Sirius turned to face the owl, and realized that it had been for him. He grabbed the envelopes from the beak of the owl, and it flew off immediately.

Ophelia stared at the envelope. She saw the way it was designed...

"It's a howler!" exclaimed James before she could.

Sirius and Ophelia's eyes widened in shock. Already, the letters were writhing in their envelopes, and then they exploded.

"MY OWN SON--A  _GRYFFINDOR_!" the howler screeched. "AND THAT BASTARD CHILD, A  _HUFFLEPUFF_! WHAT HAVE I DONE TO HAVE RAISED SUCH PATHETIC, IRRESPONSIBLE, AND MOCKERY OF CHILDREN! SIRIUS BLACK, YOU SO DARE AS TO RUN AWAY FROM ME AT KING'S CROSS? YOU SO DARE TO DEFEND THAT BEASTLY CREATURE OF SCUM ON THE EARTH AGAINST ME? THAT PITIFUL, DISGUSTING, MUD ON THE HEEL OF MY BOOT MOTHER OF OPHELIA--THAT GIRL DOES NOT BELONG TO THE HOUSE OF BLACK, AND YOU SO MUCH AS DEFEND HER!"

It became silent, and there was a pause. "I expect a proper apology from you, Sirius. You say you belong in Gryffindor, and I so hope you will be  _brave_ to come back to our home."

And it shriveled  into it's pieces of paper. Teacher's had pointed their attention to the two.

"Quite vulgar language, your mother has," Remus commented, his eyes solemn. James nodded along with the two.

"She's not my mother," muttered Ophelia.

Sirius patter her shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze. Then, beside Remus, a boy with a chubby face and blonde hair sat.  He gave a nervous nod at Remus, as he did so back.

James saw how confused Ophelia was when she saw the boy.

"This is Peter Pettigrew," said James with a small smile to the confused girl. "He's in our dorm."

Ophelia nodded. "I'm Ophelia," she said with a kind look at Peter.

"Oh, I know," said Peter nervously. Then his eyes widened. "Oh--I mean, I don't stalk yo, it's just that James was gushing about you."

Sirius' eyes widened as he stared at Peter. "He did?"

"I--yeah," said Peter as he looked between a beet-red James and disapproving Sirius. "He meant well. Said that she had nice...skin?"

At that, James really did full on spit his milk. "I did not mean put it  _that_  way!" the eleven year old boy said incredulously. 

Though it was odd that the boys were talking about her, Ophelia was glad that Peter had come, because he had took the topic away from her family.

"Then what was it you meant to say?" said Ophelia, a curious look pointed at James. "I've not got nice  _skin_ or something?"

James looked around the table, his mouth gaping open. "You do have nice skin!" he exclaimed. "Can we forget about this? I don't know why Peter brought it up..." he began to grumpily eat at his eggs and toast.

"Well, Peter was only trying to explain how he knew me before...brings up a good excuse, if I do say so myself," said Ophelia.

This time, Sirius grumpily glanced over at his sister. "What class did you say you had next?" It was meek attempt to diffuse his sister's curiosity. He understood that Ophelia had never experienced much love in Grimmauld other than his. He was happy that someone had found his sister appealing, but James was a friend that Sirius liked.

Call it selfish, but he wanted his sister to be happy with someone else.(Because James had actually spoken of a lot of girls when he was alone with Peter, which James now regrets. A lot.)

"Transfiguration with you," Ophelia said rather irritated. "You're quite forgetful."

Sirius shrugged. "Just wanted to check, Philly. Hey, Remus, you said that there were a few hideouts in Hogwarts?"

Remus had stopped eating his toast to look at him. "Yeah..."

"Mind telling me where they are?" said Sirus. "I've got a feeling that I'm gonna need those..."

Ophelia rolled her eyes and nudged Sirius's shoulder. "What've you got planned? Getting expelled on the first year?"

"Don't be coy, Philly," said Sirius with an identical eye roll. "You and I have hidden plenty of times from trouble."

"Yeah..." muttered Ophelia. "We did quite a lot."

"James and I've got a plan where we're going to prank every single individual at this school."

"And Peter and I would bail them out of trouble--if needed," Remus added. "Though, I don't really agree with it..."

"It's been  _one_ day," said Ophelia, "and you've all become the best of friends?"

"Precisely," Peter said. "Your brother real funny, honestly."

"I'm flattered," Sirius said. 

  "And we're roommates, Philly," said James briskly. "Can't hate Siri, Remmy, and Petey if I'm sleeping in the same dorm as them. Haven't you got your dorm-mates?"  

Ophelia begrudging looked down at her plate, averting her gaze from them all. "They didn't really speak to me. I honestly dunno why, maybe because I've got pure-blood freaks as family."

Her brother's heart sank a little. 

"I'm sure it's not that," said James in a rush. "After all, aren't girls different? Maybe they've got some territory to break or--"

"They're not animals," Remus interrupted, though he grew slightly uncomfortable. "What James meant to say was that not every one has an easy start."

Sirius nodded encouragingly at Ophelia. "Yeah! And by the meantime, you stick by me and the others, okay? Actually, don't leave at all..."

Ophelia was touched by Sirius' words, though she felt quite clingy. She didn't want to b dependent on her brother...but how could she ever actually leave him? She wished that she could be with Sirius in Gryffindor. Though, she wasn't as brave as him when it came to Walburga's cruelty towards them.

In the future, though, her loyalty would pay off.

But, at the moment, Ophelia saidher goodbyes to the table as she went to Transfiguration, since they were planning to "explore".

 

**published nov 11, 2016**


	5. dementor's kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: no ophelia flash back :(

****Harry had head Ron's complaints about Hermione being at different classes. Though, he didn't have time to fathom the mystery of Hermione's impossible schedule at the moment; her really needed to get on with Snape's essay. However, he was interrupted by Wood, who had told him the sad truth that he couldn't get his broom back.

The passing of January went by quickly to February. Harry still didn't order a new broom and resulted in asking McGonagall for news on the Fire-bolt. And she always snapped, saying that it wasn't ready.

  Harry even saw Hermione and Darcy walking together a few times, and it sort of made him irritated. She knew who Darcy Black was--the daughter of Sirius Black. He was betrayed that Hermione would speak to the girl, and even more displeased because Hermione was hanging out with a Slytherin.  

  Yet, Harry and Ron were not on speaking terms with Hermione ever since the start of term when she tattled on them with the broom. It was bound that Hermione would find a friend.  

The lesson's with Lupin weren't going as well. He could only produce that same silvery wisp as the first try. Though, he didn't pass out. Professor Ophelia had stopped coming as, she claimed that she had plenty of assignments to grade--even mentioned Hermione being top in that class. Though, on the forth week, she looked much more ill. Lupin seemed to deepily care for the Professor, as he actually kissed the woman on the forehead and watched her leave, right past Harry.

"You're expecting too much of yourselves," said Professor Lupin sternly in their that same week of practice. "For a thirteen-year-old wizard, even an indistinct Patronus is a huge achievement. You aren't passing out anymore, are you?"

"I thought a patronus would--charge the dementor's down or something," said Harry dispiritedly. "Make them disappear--"

"The true patronus does do that," said Lupin. "But you've achieved a great deal in a very short space of time. If the dementors put in an appearance at your next quidditch mathc, you will be able to keep them at bay long enough to get back on the ground."

"You said it's harder if there are loads of them," said Harry.

"Professor Black and I have complete confidence in you," said Lupin, smiling. "Here--you've earned a drink--something from the Three Broomstick. You won't have tried it before--"

He pulled two bottles out of his brief case.

"Butterbeer!" said Harry without thinking. "Yeah, I like that stuff!"

Lupin raised an eyebrow.

"Oh--Ron and Hermione brought me some back from Hogsmeade," Harry lied quickly.

"I see," said Lupin, though he was a little suspicious. "Well--let's drink to a Gryffindor victory against Ravenclaw! Not that I'm supposed to take sides, as a teacher..." he added quickly.

They drank in silence, and when Harry asked what was under a dementors hood, the response was quite interesting a frightful.

"The people who have seen it aren't in any condition to to tell us," said Lupind. "The dementor only lower the hood to use its last and worst weapon."

"What's that?"

"They call it the Dementor's kiss," said Lupin, with a slightly twisted smile. "It's what dementors do to those they wish to utterly destroy. I supposed there myst be some kind of mouth under there, because they clamp their jaws upon the mouth of the victim and--and suck out their souls."

Harry accidentally spat out a bit of his butterbeer. He recalled that Professor Black had complained about almost being "kissed" by them.

"What--they kill--?"

"Oh no," said Lupin, though his eyes were very much solemn. "Much worse than that. You can exist without your soul, you know, as long as the brain and heart work. But you'll have no sense of self...no memory. There's no chance of recovery at all. You'll just exist as an empty shell. And your souls is gone forever...lost."

Lupin drank a little more of his butter beer, then said, "It's the fate that awaits Sirius Black. It was in the Daily Prophet this morning. The Ministry gave the dememtors permission if they find him."

Harry sat stunned for a moment at the idea of Professor Black actually being a close victim of getting her soul sucked out through her mouth.  But then, he thought of her murdering brother.

"He deserves it," he said suddenly.

"You think so?" said Lupin lightly. "Do you really think anyone deserves that?"

"Yes," said arry defiantly. "For...for some things..."

He would have liked to tell Lupin of the conversation he overhead at the Three Broomsticks, about Sirius Black betraying his mother and father, and Professor Black almost getting kissed, but it would have involved him revealing he went to Hogmeade without permission. Harry knew Lupin wouldn't be impressed with that. So he finished his butterbeer, thanked Lupin, and left te History of Magic Classroom.

Though, Harry had a pleasant surprise as he bumped into Professor McGonagall just three halls down with a very stricken Professor Black.

"Do watch where you're going, Potter!" McGonagall said.

"Sorry, Professor--"

"I've just been looking for you in the Gryffindor common room. Well, here it is, we've done everything we could think of, and there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with it at all. You've got a very good friend somewhere, Potter..."

Harry's jaw dropped, she held out his Firebolt to him.

"I can have it?" Harry said weakly. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," said Professor McGonagall, and she was smiling. She told him to win, as it would be Gryffindor's eighth year in a row.

Harry was shocked, as he numbly ran towards the Gryffindor Tower. Though, he ran into Darcy Black as she walked down the stairs that lead to the tower.

She was equipped with her loads of books and her green robe was tucked right under her arm. THough, they all fell down the stairs when Harry accidentally shoved her shoulder. He hadn't known it was her, but when there was no sudden gasp, he looked back down from the stairs.

THere, she was, picking up her fallen stuff delicately. Se didn't so much as say  _anything_ , and it made Harry feel much worse than it should. PLacing the Firebolt on the nearest wall, he walked down the stairs to help her.

"I'm sorry," he said, bending down to pick of the green robe and the massive book the was near to him. "I didn't mean to shove you..."

Darcy glanced up at him with a kind smile, though it looked like it was forced. She waved her hand, and glowling letters had appeared, saying, " _I'm guessing you were in a rush?_ "

The letter's that appeared from her hands were similar to how Tom Riddle had spelled out his name last year in the chamber of secrets. It shocked Harry, as it looked like very advanced magic. Though, he first assumed it must've been dark magic, Harry scolded himself. Darcy's writing was much more different, as they were in delicate letters.

Recovering from the shock, Harry helped Darcy up and handed her stuff. He caught one of her books that intrigued him much like how it intrigued Hermione. " _Reverse Cursing?_ " said Harry.

Darcy nodded, slowly moving down the stairs. The letters appeared in front of her again. " _Extra studying I'm doing with Professor Black_..."

Harry had caught that she didn't refer to Professor Black as "mum". He glanced suspiciously at her as he grabbed the Firebolt from the wall. "Has Professor Black been with you for the past month?"

This time, it was Darcy's turn to be slighlty suspicious of Harry. He asked a lot of questions. " _She has, Harry. I presume you've been with Lupin for anti-dementor lessons?_ "

Harry nodded. 

Darcy pointed at the broom he held. " _Nice fire-bolt. You've got a match against Ravenclaw, right?"_

"Thanks," said Harry, "and we do...Finally got it back."

Darcy nodded, though she felt the slight awkwardness between them. " _I hope you win, then_ ," the words said. " _You probably deserve it more than anyone_."

Harry was shocked as he read those words. "Why--Thanks, Darcy...Guess I'll see you Saturday..."

The two departed, and although Harry had a deep grudge on Sirius Black and sort of settled it on Darcy, Darcy couldn't help but feel her stomach elevate. 

Though, it left Harry feeling guilty for assuming so much on Darcy just because she was a Slytherin and his daughter. 

He'd made it up the stairs, where Ron actually neared the corner and they both entered the common room with light hearts and good cheers.

They both met Hermione at on end of the common room, but Ron had left to put the broom away. Hermione had the table in front of them cluttered with essays. There was even a "Why Muggles Need Electricity" essay that was extremly long.

"How're you getting through all this stuff?" Harry asked her.

"Oh, you know, working hard," said Hermione. Harry noticed that her face was just as tired as Professor Black and Lupin.

"Why don't you just drop a couple of subjects?" Harry asked, watching her lifting books as she searvhed for her rune dictionary.

"I couldn't do that!" said Hermione, looking scandalized.

"Arithmancy looks terrible," said Harry, picking up a very complicated-looking number chart. "And you've also got reverse cursing?"

Hermione igniored the last part of his question. "Oh no, Arithmancy is wonderful--"

She didn't get through the end of her sentence, as a strangled yell echoed down the boys' staircase. The whole common room fell silent, staring, petrified, at the entrance. Then came hurried footsteps--and then Ron came leaping into view, dragging with him a bed-sheet.

It was the matter that Scabbers was presumably dead that made Hermione spend more time with Darcy. Harry didn't see how Ron and Hermione would ever actually make up.

Harry actually does think that Crookshanks ate Scabbers--it was natural cat behavior. So when he met with Hermione, who had invited Darcy from the Slytherin table to eat one morning, trying ti say that the evidence actually did point that way.

"Okay, side with Ron, I knew you would!" she said shrilly. "First the Firebolt, now Scabbers, everything's always my fault, isn't it! Just leave me alone, Harry, I've got a lot of work to do now!" She pulled along a wide-eyed Darcy out of the Great Hall.

. . . 

After the last practice on Friday, the next morning Harry strode into the Great Hall with his Firebolt in hand. A lot of people turned to look at the Firebolt, and a good deal of excitement was bustling throughout the hall. He also saw that the Slytherin team were all thunder-struck, which gave Harry extreme satisfaction.

He saw Darcy gloomily looking at her table, giving even Malfoy a dirty eye as he spoke to the table. Harry felt a little bad for her, as she didn't seem to belong in the house as much as others have.

"Did you see his face?" Ron said gleefully, looking back at Malfoy. "He can't believe it! Brilliant!"

Wood, the captain, had told Harry to place the broom on the table. A few Hufflepuff's and Ravenclaw's soon came over to the table for a look. Cedric Diggory even came over to congratulate Harry on the replacement.

Draco Malfoy even came over for a closer look, along with Crabbe and Goyle behind him. From even behind the three gits, Darcy spotted Harry's eye over their shoulders and began to stand after Malfoy was done with his taunting.

As Malfoy walked past Darcy, he shoved her shoulder which she just slightly blocked. She threw a dirty glare at him and lifted her hands and waving them around.  The next thing they see was Malfoy hiccuping as he spoke with the Slytherin table.

Darcy, a look of accomplishment on her face, stood above Harry. He stood up, though he felt a little embarrassed as there was no point to stand. 

" _Hermione wanted to wish her best luck_ ," her words said in the air. " _I also came here to do so as well...Hermione's a little busy with school work_."

Harry nodded dumbly, and he stared at the neat and beautiful glowing words between them. "Thank you, Darcy. Tell Hermione I said thanks, though."

Placing a hand on his elbow, Darcy nodded. " _No problem, wish I could see the game though, but I may catch it later on. So...bye, Harry."_ And with that she tucked a hair behind her ear and left the Great Hall, leaving Harry and the Gryffindor table a little shocked.

"Oh, okay," Harry meekly said, as she went.

"Harry--mate, who is she?" Fred said, as he stared open mouthed at him. "She's a Slytherin--and--and you're ogling her!"

Harry tossed a dirty look at the twins as they both were giving him mischievous smiles. He didn't know why it was such a big deal that he spoke to Darcy. Maybe it was the events of two nights ago, when she had made him feel much more different than he had about her. 

She did was a nice smile. She wasn't like a Slytherin...and if Hermione so much as hung out with the girl...she couldn't be that bad.

"That's Professor Black's daughter, Darcy Black," said Ginny, munching on her toast. "Most of the Slytherin's in fifth year  _hate_ her, but Hermione says that everyone else adores how bubbly she is. I'd thought you guys knew that already."

It was odd to hear of Professor Black's name through someone else's mouth. Most of the time Harry has seen the Professor, she was rather glum.

"Oh, Hermione  _says_ " Ron said, rolling his eyes. "When's her opinion got any authority?"

Ginny glared at her brother. "Did I say it had authority, Ron?"

Ron said nothing back, but focused his attention on Harry. "So, Harry, when did you start talking to Darcy?" he asked.

Harry shrugged, moving around the pieces of food on his plate. "She's quite nice, actually..." Harry answered. "And not long, maybe two nights ago."

Fred, George, and Ron both gave him an odd look. Harry felt the need to defend himself. 

"She's not like other Slytherin--her own  _mum's_ even teaching muggle studies!" said Harry, looking defiantly at the three. 

Ron gave in, because Wood had ordered the team it was time to go. With that, Harry dressed himself and walked over to the Quidditch field, already hundreds of students were cheering for either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor--and gladly, Gryffindor ended up screaming their lungs when Harry had won even when three  _fake_ dementors had tried to attack him.

Searching the crowd, though, he actually did see Darcy with Ginny cheering for the Gryffindor team. He wished that she could join him and the team at the party, only because she was very lonely. Harry could imagine the taunts thrown at her when the Slytherin's saw their own cheering for Gryffindor.

Fred and George disappeared a few ago, but came back with bottle of butter beer, pumpkin fiz, and several bags of sweets from Honeydukes. 

"How'd you do that?" squealed Angelina Johnson as George started throwing Peppermint Toads into the crowd.

"With a little help from Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs, and Foxtrot," Fred murmured in Harry's ear.

Only one person wasn't joining in the festivities. Hermione, incredibly, was sitting in a corner, attempting to read an enormous book entitled  _Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles_. Harry broke away from the table where Fred and George had started juggling butterbeer bottles and went over to her.

"Did you even come to the match?" he asked her, as he didn't see her with Darcy.

"Of course I did," said Hermione in a strangely high-pitched voice, not looking up. "And I'm very glad we won, and I think you did really well, but I need to read this by Monday."

Harry had tried his very best to let Hermione losen up, but even she knew that it would end badly. And she was right, because Ron had made Hermione cry in order for her to admit she wasn't right. 

"Can't you give her a break?" Harry asked quietly.

"No," said Ron flatly. "If she acted like she was sorry--but she won't. And when are you going to tell me about Darcy Black and you?"

Harry suddenly didn't like how Ron was trying to point the attention away from the actual problem.

"I don't see as there's anything going on between Darcy and I," he said defiantly, again. "Haven't I told you earlier today?"

"So?" said Ron as he plopped down on the couch. "Enlighten me. You did ogle her like she--I dunno--different."

Harry didn't want to talk about Darcy, because there was nothing to talk about. But, maybe that was him trying to hide the weird feeling in his stomach.

"I ran into her when I got my Firebolt," Harry said irritably. "And she--she was very quite and I felt really bad for knocking her down her books..."

Ron nodded. "But she's also Sirius Black's daughter," he said in a hushed tone. "You even snapped at me during end term..." he grumbled.

Harry nodded. It was odd how thoughts could change within months. He just felt guilty of assuming of she was a pure-blood freak...But being that her supposed "mum", Professor Black, was the muggle studies teacher.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that, I was just caught up on...finding out who Sirius Black is," Harry apologized.

Not a while longer, McGonagall had shut down the party. The boys and girls had cleaned up and headed to bed. It was only a few hours, when everyone was asleep, a loud scream was heard from Ron's bed.

The entire dorm was up immediately, though not entirely as the Harry was disorientated. Dean Thomas had lit his lamp, revealing a much frightened Ron.

"Black! Sirius Black! With a knife!"

"What?"

"Here! Just NOw!"

After much fussing, the group of boys finally took this down to the common room. Ron was still saying he saw Sirius Black, and they were still saying if he was sure he wasn't dreaming. Percy, had tried numerous times to get the people back to bed, as he too didn't believe Ron.

It was then that Professor McGonagall had slammed the portrait door and scolded them all for not being in bed and still containing the party.

 "IT WASN'T NIGHTMARE!" Ron yelled. "PROFESSOR, I WOKE UP, AND SIRIUS BLACK WAS STANDING OVER ME, HOLDING A KNIFE!"

Professor McGonagall stared at him.

"Don't be ridiculous, Weasley, how could he possibly have gotten through the portrait hole?"

"Ask him!" Ron pointed  a shaky finger at the back of Sir Cadogan's picture. "Ask him if he saw--"

Glaring suspiciously at ROn, Professor Gonagall pushed the potrait back opne and went outside. The whole common room listened with silence.

"Sir Cadogan, did you just let a man enter Gryffindor Tower?"

"Certainly, good lady!" cried Sir Cadogan.

"You--you did?" said Professor McGonagall. "But--but the password!"

 

He had em'!" said the portrait proudly. "Had the whole week's, my lady! Red 'em off a little piece of paper!"

[ **a/n: "neville you don fucked up"]**

Professor McGonagall pulled herself back through the portrait hole to face the stunned crowd. She was white as chalk.

"Which person," she said, her voice shaking, "which abysmally foolish person wrote down this week's passwords and left them lying around?"

Albeit it being Neville Longbottom, Harry couldn't help but feel worried for Darcy Black and suspecting Professor Black...

 

 


	6. friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: lol very long chapter because i wanted to speed this shit up.

****The entire Gryffindor Tower had stayed up. The castle was being search, and everyone had started to whispering about Professor Black maybe leading her brother back into the castle. They awaited the new if Professor Black did indeed do it, and captured Sirius Black. But McGonagall had come back, Sirius Black had escaped.

"What about his sister!" shouted a seventh year who stood defiantly at the front of the common room. "What if she lead him into the castle?"

McGonagall gave the student a dirty look. "It is from Dumbledore's understanding that Professor Black had been with Professor Lupin at Hogsmeade."

Throughout the day, every corner of the castle had tighter security. Professor Flitwick could be seen teaching the front doors to recognize a large picture of Sirius Black; Filch wsa bordering up any crack and hole. Sir Cadogan had been fired. The Fat Lady had been restored with security trolls around her.

Harry couldn't help but realize that the statue of the one-eyed witch had no guarding. It seemed that Fred and George were right, along with Harry, Ron and Hermione, that they were the only ones that knew sabout the hidden passage way.

"D'you reckon we should tell anyone?" Harry asked Ron.

"We know he's not coming in through Honeydukes," Ron said dissmissively. "We'd've heard of the shop was broken into."

Ron, along with Darcy and Professor Black, had become instant celebrities. Ron was enjoyinh the attention that he got, happy to tell the story of last night more than a hundred times.

"...I was asleep, and I heard him...but when I yelled...he scampered!" Ron would say. Then when the people would leave, he'd say to Harry, "Why, though? Why did he run?"

Harry wondered this. Why did Black, having got the wrong bed, not silenced Ron and proceeded to Harry? Black proved twelve years ago that he didn't mind murdering innocent people, and this time he'd face five unarmed boys, four asleep.

Though he did have a reasonable argument, it was the rumors and whispers about Professor Black that loomed over the halls. It was the same every time: had Professor Black allowed her brother back in? Or it would be: Why did they even think about letting her teach at Hogwarts.

It was now no secret that Dracy Black was Sirius Black's daughter. Surprisingly, a lot of people knew, and it made Harry feel much more ignorant than before. It was only most of the first and second years, along with a few third years, who didn't now who her father was.

When Neville Longbottom had received a Howler from is grandmother, he had made the mistake of running into Darcy as she walked in. His howler had busted right in front of their faces and the entire Slytherin table had laughed at them.

It was clear to the entire four houses that Darcy Black was not even liked in her own house. Harry was focused on Darcy as she helped Neville up and patted him on the back. Then, she looked hesitantly at the Slytherin table.

But, as Harry was going to call her over, she turned back around and left the Great Hall, a few snickers were heard from Slytherin table.

There was a nibble on his wrist and Harry turned around to see Hedwig giving him a letter. Harry took it and it read that Hagrid would be picking them up at the entrance hall this afternoon for tea.

. . .

Darcy had began walking towards the library, where she could only hope Hermione was. 

The events that took place last night impacted Ophelia and Darcy. Actually, Darcy wouldn't know if it did affect Ophelia as much as it did her.

All Darcy had received from her room-mates were dirty glances. Is this what Hogwarts was like? She'd never experienced such...distrust from her own house.

Thankfully, Hermione was kind enough to see through her Slytherin robes and tie, and saw the mute  girl with trouble getting acclimated to the new area.

Speaking of Hermione...

The usual table at the back of the library was empty. Darcy felt a little sad as she sat herself down on the hard wooden table. She brought out her book of reverse curses, reading over the usual chapters of experiemtal curses by dark wizards. 

It's not accustom for schools to have these kinds of books, but Darcy hadn't actually gotten this book from the library but from Ophelia.

Ophelia Black had tried every potion to reverse this mute curse on her niece. It was difficult. She'd brought the greatest potions masters in North America [because America actually excelled in that more than Europe]. 

Her aunt [it was odd to refer to Ophelia as "aunt" but she figured it was time] had even so much as gone to the local merpeople--who actually were not as generous as the ones at the Black lake. Also, the merpeople Ophelia had gone to were seawater, and more accustomed to eat flesh. Like piranhas.

Darcy was just doting a few spells that Ophelia and she could go over together. Though, the top one that Darcy has found was the celestial rock that merpeople can enchant. It was ancient magic, when merpeople had associated with humans and created halfbreeds. Although the thought of those ugly beige merpeople mating with humans was quite...displeasing, Darcy just knew that this was something that  _had_ to work. 

After all, hadn't ancient magic helped Harry Potter escape the killing curse? 

Though, when Darcy was just going to transition from her research to Snape's potions essay Roland Abberly had appeared in front of her.

"Hey," he said quietly, sitting down. "Working on Snape's essay?"

Darcy looked up suddenly and nodded. 

"And," he added a little hesitantly, "you're Sirius Black's daughter. Have you lied to me?"

Darcy looked away, a little ashamed of her father. Then, she waved her hands in front of her, and the words said, " _More like I've been waiting to find out who my father is."_

Roland nodded. "I know we don't know each other that well, Darcy, but would you want to talk about it? I saw what happened in the Great Hall. Slytherin doesn't seem to be treating you very nicely, aren't they?"

Darcy solemnly glanced at her book, closing it. " _Not really_.. _. I've never experienced this...hateship between houses. Pukwudgie was always--_ "

Though, Roland had coughed in an attempt to not laugh. " _Pukwudgie_? Is that a house name?"

Darcy rolled her eyes and erased her glowing words. " _The house of healing--or the soul. It was a loving place, really. All houses had friendly acquaintances and friendly banters..._ "

"But I heard there was a lot of muggle prejudice," Roland added. "And I know the history of North American magic. You guys have been burned...executed. It's why MACUSA has stricter secrecy policies than the Ministry."

Darcy stared at Roland in surprise--but she recovered quickly. He was Ravenclaw, or if he went to Ilvermorny, he would've been in Horned Serpent.

" _Oh, yeah_ ," Darcy wrote out, " _but we don't have the pure-blood prejudice...I guess both ministries have problems with prejudice, right?_ "

Roland nodded and peeked at her half written essay. "You've not finished Snape's essay?"

" _I've not been very concentrated the past week. The month...hasn't been great._ "

"I can help you with that," Roland said all too excitedly. 

Darcy gave Roland a kind smile. He seemed to not be as pale as before because the dark eye-sockets around his eyes were gone. " _That's nice, Roland, but today wouldn't do good..."_

Roland nodded, but then he gasped. "I forgot! There's a Hogsmeade trip next Saturday!"

Darcy gave him a perplexed look. " _Is there? I better ask my aunt for permission..._ "

. . .

The day of the Hogsmeade trip, Darcy had been with Hermione, whom was still ostracized from Harry and Ron. Honestly, she was annoyed with the pair. What kind of friends were they, to just drop her?

Hermione had told Darcy that she voiced her worries for Harry to sneak back into Hogsmeade after the events of Sirius Black coming back. Saying that, Hermione apologized, but Darcy brushed it off. She wasn't sure who to believe with the current status of her father.

Ophelia always claimed that he was innocent, even before Sirius Black broke out of Azkaban. Yet, the majority of the world seems to believe he isn't.

Putting the though aside, Darcy asked what the places were at Hogsmeade.

Hermione smiled brightly. "Oh! The three broomsticks--they've got butterbeer, you'll love it!"

Darcy smiled at the happy look on her face. " _It's nice to see you with a smile_ ," her words said. " _It's a better look on you_."

Hermione's already tinged pink cheeks burned brighter, but instead she frowned. "Thank you, Darcy. I suppose I should hang out with you, because you seem to be more understanding than Ron and Harry."

Darcy felt a little taken aback. Surely Hermione wouldn't drop them as well?

The two drank their butterbeers and talked about their assignments. It seemed that the two could always find something to talk about, because  each subject lead to the other. Hemrione mentioned that Slytherin would be in the final Quidditch game, and she dearly hoped the wouldn't win.

"Sorry, again," Hermione said, realizing she was Slytherin. "It's just...The people in that house aren't nice. Most of them are pure-blood, and they don't like muggle-borns like me."

" _That's terrible_ ," Darcy cringed. " _That seems to be a problem everywhere, doesn't it?"_

Hermione nodded solemnly. "I'm sorry if I always refer Slytherins as evil and fould, too. I've realized I've said that a lot to you, and you never really got the chance to say anything. Not all Slytherins have to be horid like Malfoy and Crabbe and Goyle."

Darcy shook her head. " _It's okay. I don't like my house as much either_."

"You aren't as cunning as most of the Slytherin's--I bet you're more ambitious. But then again, you could be Ravenclaw."

Darcy nodded, tapping her chin in thought. " _My aunt was actually a Hufflepuff--though she said that she would've been in Ravenclaw..._ "

"Proffessor Black, in Ravenclaw?" Hermione pondered. "I guess so, yes. She quite loves Muggle transportation, doesn't she?"

Darcy laughed, but it came out silent. She blushed horridly and looked around the pub. Thankfully no one had noticed, except Hermione, whom was looking sadly at the girl.

Hermione had smiled when Darcy glanced at her. The glowing words appeared in front of her. 

" _Sorry."_

"Don't be!" Hermione exclaimed. "It's not you're fault."

Darcy looked at Hermione with a doubtful face. " _I hate that I can't speak._ "

Hemrione reached over and placed her hand on the girl's elbow. "We can find a way, Darcy. You're in Europe now! The land of magical creatures and beasts!"

Darcy grinned unconvincingly at Hermione. 

. . .

The two girls had left Hogsmeade after a few trips to Zonkos and Honeydukes. Darcy had been so shocked to see so many tricks and toys. Darcy actually bought a quill that could write itself and a few sweets from Honeydukes.

A few weeks or more have passed by so quickly for Darcy. She was glad to find out that Hermione had come to terms with Harry and Ron. This allowed Darcy to actually eat with Hermione at the Gryffindor table. Of course, it caused quite a rift, but Slytherin seemed to be much less appeasing and she rather liked to see Hermione scorn Ron for eating so much.

Other than the rather humorous meals with the Gryffindor table, Ophelia and she were speaking as much as they used to. It was occasionaly "hellos" and "Love yous" but Darcy was still slightly wounded of finding out about her father and still confused on whether to believe he was innocent like Ophelia say he is.

Darcy has also noticed that whenever Professor was gone in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Ophelia would be there. She knew that she would substitute for Lupin, but every time he came back, he seemed quite pale and sick. Darcy also noticed the time spent between Ophelia and Lupin. She started wondering if there was an affliction between them.

Pestering Ophelia about her love life wasn't in the best of Darcy's interests. Well, not yet. It was surely odd to see two Professors being secretive with each other.

There was also the events of the final Quidditch match. Darcy had been cheering for Gryffindor along with Hermione, Ron, and Ginny. She rather liked the commentary done by Lee Jordan. It's what made her seem more likable to Ron. And even if he couldn't hear her laughter because of her muteness, it reminded Ron of tiny little fairies.

It was during that match, Darcy  _really_  wanted to be the commentary for Quidditch matches. She seemed to have a boost in confidence and she hugged Hermione so hard when Oliver Wood saved a goal. And when Slytherin had cheated only slightly, it was what made Darcy love the humor that Lee would bring up. 

The group of Gryffindor's saw how riled and cheerful Darcy was. For the first time, they actually saw her loosen much more and Ron's prejudice thinking had seemed to dissapate. He thought,  _If Harry decided to date her, good for him, he got a good one._

Then, Darcy really got into the game when Malfoy had spotted the Snitch. She held onto Hermione, her eyes so worried about Harry as he dived so fast. 

"GRYFFDOR WON!" Lee's voice yelled as nearly the entire stadium stood up and cheered. 

Hermione squealed and hugged both Ron and Hermione. "We won!"

Darcy laughed, though this time she didn't care that it couldn't be heard. She wasn't in Gryffindor, but she surely could say she felt so happy to be in a group that seemed to like her.

Then after that much appreciated game, it was then that exams were coming up. Darcy had done a lot in her second year as a Pukwudige. She took all classes that needed to be done--which even included higher year level classes--in order to get her specific healing classes. Her third year at Hogwarts was simply too easy, as some classes she already took. [Muggle studies and defense class were two classes that were much harder than she anticipated.] 

One day, Hermione and she were in the library, but Hermione was so tense that it bothered Darcy. 

" _What happened?_ " Darcy asked, her floating words weren't as illuminating.

Hermione sadly looked at her. "Harry...He told me something about your--about Sirius Black."

Darcy raised and eyebrow. What didn't she know about Sirius Black?"

"I don't know if you know this, Darcy, but Sirius Black was really good friends with Harry's dad, James Potter."

Leaning back into her chair in shock, Darcy shook her head. It was rather embarassing that Darcy ever thought she wasn't  _ignorant_  of her situation. How many secrets had Ophelia kept from her?

"I guess you didn't..." Hermione sighed. "I--it's been bothering me, Darcy. I don't want to be the one who tells you stuff..."

Darcy looked away.

"We saw the minister of magic today...He's about to order an execution on Hagrid's hippogriff."

Hagrid was the half giant that Hermione spoke fondly of. Darcy sometimes went down to his hut with her, claiming that she hated not having tea with him. Sometimes she would cry, which made Darcy more irritated than ever with Harry and Ron.

" _That's horrible!_ " Darcy emphasized with a look of appall. 

Hermione nodded, but she invited Darcy to come along and give their grievances to Hagrid. Darcy had to decline, because Ophelia had asked her to meet with her. The two girls departed, going their separate ways.

Darcy appeared in front of Ophelia's classroom. 

"Darcy!" said Ophelia, who was sitting in her desk, and Lupin was sitting on a student's chair.

Darcy waved awkwardly. " _You wanted to see me?_ "

"Oh yes, come here, dear," Ophelia said, gesturing to the chair next to Professor Lupin. 

The Slytherin girl did so, placing her Revers Cursing book down in front of her. Lupin had taken notice of this, already feeling a swell of pity in his chest. Darcy awaited for her aunt to say something.

The woman was rather tired-looking. Her skin was almost white, and there was a bandage covering her shoulder. The hair of Ophelia was black like an abyss, and it could only mean that she was immensely tired. 

" _What happened to your shoulder?_ " Darcy asked, her words glimmering unevenly between them.

Ophelia brushed it off.  "I wanted to tell you, Darce," she said, "Remus and I will be heading out late at night--scouting the perimeter. I wanted to make sure you knew, as...as it's very crucial that you aren't alone, okay?"

Darcy looked oddly at her aunt and Lupin, though she was very worried. " _You'll be careful out there_?" 

Ophelia smiled lovingly at the girl. "Of course, Darce."

Professor Lupin stood up. "And, we have a promising solution for your muteness, Darcy," he said, smiling at her. 

Darcy stood up as well, but her posture was rigid with excitement. " _Have you?_ "

Ophelia nodded, smiling at the young girls eagerness. "Yes! Remus and I have managed to convinece Professor Dumbledore to speak with the merfolk in Black lake--isn't that wonderful!"

Darcy nodded vigorously, her body running towards her aunt. Words weren't able to say how excited she was, and she kissed Ophelia on the cheek and hugged her tightly.

. . .

Her happiness clouded her sense of direction. It wasn't that late since Ophelia didn't take long. She assumed that Hermione would be with Hagrid, but instead, when making it out of the castle, she heard feet running from behind her.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle ran past her with out a thought, but they mutter obscenities. Darcy narrowed her eyes at the three as she went towards where they were running from.

 


	7. darcy black

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: THIS CHAPTER IS 4,898 WORDS OKAY AND ITS THE END!!!!!!! OF PART ONE, BOOK THREE! EXCUSE TYPOS BC ITS 6 AM IM TIRED

****It went by so fast. First, ron being dragged into a tunnel by a dog; second, the whomping willow picking Darcy up as she silently screamed; and three, Harry, Hermione, and she were bustling into the Shrieking Shack.

"Ron!" Hermione when they spotted a four-poster bed and him on it.

"Are you okay?"

"Where's the dog?"

"Not a dog," Ron moaned. His teeth were gritted with oain. "Harry it's a  _trap_."

"What--"

" _He's the dog...he's an Animagus..."_

Ron was staring over Harry's shoulder. He whirled around.

Darcy gasped, but no one could hear her. There was a man in the shadows and he slammed the door shut behind them.

There, Sirius Black stood with filthy matted hair hung to his elbows. If eyes hadn't been shining out of the deep, dark sockets, he might've been a corpse. It made Darcy sick to her stomach, seeing this pale man as her father. She looked nothing like him--not even a little bit!

"Expelliarmus!" he croaked with Ron's wand and all of their wands were taken from them.

Sirius took a step closer. His eyes were fixed on Darcy and Harry standing next to each, her cowering more behind Harry.

"I thought you'd come and help your friend," he said hoarsely. His voice sounded like he really hadn't used in in a long time. Darcy suddenly felt the urge to speak, to see if she would sound like him. "Your father would have done the same for me. Brave of you, not to run for a teacher. I'm grateful...it'll make everything much easier..."

Form how it sounded through Darcy's ears, it seemed that he was rubbing in Harry's face that James would've died for him. Darcy saw no innocence in this man, as Ophelia had so defiantly claimed.

Harry started forward to attack, but Darcy and Hermione grabbed him back.

"No, Harry!" Hermione gasped in a petrified whisper; Ron, however, spoke to Black.

"If you want to kill Harry, you'll have to kill us too!" he said fiercely, but he cringed in pain when he tried to sit upright.

Darcy's face was now alarmed. Would Sirius kill his own daughter to kill Harry?

As she looked at Sirius, something flickered in his eyes.

"Lie down," he said quietly to Ron. "You'll damage that leg more."

"Did you hear me?" Ron said weakly. "You'll have to kill all four of us!"

"There will only be one murder here tonight," said Black, his grin widening.

Darcy's eyes widened, this time she stepped away from behind Harry and held him back with her arm. She worried now, because this wasn't how she was going to lose a friend.

"Why's that?" Harry spat, trying to wrench from the three's grasp. Darcy kept her grip tight on his hand. "Didn't care about those muggles to get at Pettigrew? Has Azkaban made you soft?"

Darcy yanked Harry back as Hermione gasped, "Harry! Be quiet!"

"HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!" Harry roared and within huge effort he broke free of Hermione and Ron's grasp, but Darcy still held tight to his hand as he pushed forward--

Darcy widened her eyes when Harry had shoved her off and punched Sirius in the face. They both collided onto the wall and Hermione could be heard screaming as Ron was yelling. The lights that blinded her made her trip, falling on her butt.

She saw Black find its way to Harry's throat. "No," he hissed, "I've waited too long—"

Thank god for Hermione, whose foot swung out of nowhere to kick Black away from Harry. Darcy tried to get up, but she was pushed back down by her lack of energy— _she knew she should've grabbed a snack_.

Sirius was being pounced on every direction. Ron ended up being thrown to the floor as a ginger cat had been kicked by Harry. The scene shifted, and Darcy finally gained the energy to stand with the support of the moving wall.

"You killed my parents," Harry said, his voice shaking slightly with his wand pointed steady at Sirius's throat.

Darcy's eyes were staring intently at Harry's hand—her breathing hard with fear. What was he doing? She wanted to speak so badly. This was  _wrong_ —she wanted to speak—

Black stared up at Harry with those sunken eyes. Darcy saw for a moment, sadness.

"I don't deny it," he said very quietly. "But if you knew the whole situation—"

"The whole story?" Harry repeated, the wand was held tighter and Ophelia's ears sharper. "You sold them out to Voldemort. That's all I need to know."

"You've got to listen to me," Black said, and there was a note of urgency in his voice now. "You'll regret if you don't...You'll kill me in front of Vega...You don't understand..."

The mention of her birth name had struck Darcy harder than it should. How it sounded on his lips, the urgency...It didn't make sense how the man the ministry had painted as a mass murdered could have the need of urgency and care enough to mention his half-blood daughter—Sirius Black married a muggle woman...How twisted could he be to kill eleven of them?

More than ever, Darcy was confused and very light-headed from lack of food consumption.

The place was quiet as Harry stood with his wand still pointed at Sirius. Suddenly, the appearance of Crookshanks leaping onto the man's chest. It stayed there and Black blinked down at the cat.

"Get off," he murmured, try to push Crookshanks off him.

But the cat wouldn't give because his claws sank down deeper inot he robes of Sirius Black. The cat gave Harry a look. To his right, Hermione gave a sob.

Darcy intently watched Harry wiith narrowed, unfocused eyes. She worried that his anger would get the best of him. She worried that Sirius Black wasn't innocent—that Ophelia had been on his side since the beginning. Darcy didn't want Sirius to die—and it shocked her because all evidence did point to him. It strangely reminded her of Ron accusing Hermione's cat of eating his rat, even though the rat was still alive...

Her thoughts were disrupted when Harry's wand was raised. As the seconds became a minute, he did not move. Black stared up at him. Could Harry be experiencing the same confusion as Darcy?

Though, there were multiple muffle footsteps. Darcy glanced below here, as they were on the second floor.

"WE'RE UP HERE!" Hermione suddenly screamed. "WE'RE UP HERE—SIRIUS BLACK—QUICK!"

Black made a movement that could've thrown the cat off. Harry gripped his wand so tight, his fingers were beginning to numb. Darcy noticed the frantic look on Harry's face.

Darcy wanted to  _speak_. She wanted to speak! Her mouth was open and she was panting. It was odd at first, because she thought she heard herself—she looked at Harry, her mouth moving to form the words—no. It was hopeless. She can't.

The door to the room burst open in a shower of red sparks and Harry wheeled around as Professors Lupin and Black came hurtling in the room, both of their wands raised and ready. Their eyes flickered to Ron, lying on the floor, over to Hermione, cowering next to the door, to Darcy, gripping the wall for support, to Harry, standing there with his wand covering Sirius Black, and then to Black himself, crumpled and bleeding at Harry's feet.

Ophelia had put her wand down when she saw Darcy. But Lupin shouted, " _Expelliarmus_!"

Harry's wand flew from his hand again; as well as the other three Hermione was holding. Lupin caught them and moved into the room, staring at Black with Crookshanks lying protectively across his chest.

Ophelia was frozen, staring between the brother she loves so much, and the daughter-like niece cowering at the wall.

"Where is he, Sirius?" Lupin said with so much surpressed emotion, it could've made Ophelia burst to tears.

Darcy snapped her head at the Professor. What was he talking about? She turned her gaze over to Ophelia, who spoke next.

"Where's he gone hiding?" she said, her wand now pointing around the room, searching.

Black's face was expressionless and he didn't move at all. Then, he raised his finger and pointed at Ron. Darcy didn't glance at Ron, as she was too fixed on Ophelia. She was too distraught to use her glowing words for communication. She wanted to say why her aunt was here. Why they were so cryptic.

"But then..." Lupin muttered, staring at Black so intently it seemed that he was trying to read hi smind, "...why hasn't he shown himself before now? Unless"—Lupin's eyes widened as though he was seeing something beyond Black, something none but Ophelia could see— "unless,  _he_  was the one...unless you switched...without telling me?"

Ophelia choked on a sob.

"Professors," Harry interrupted loudly, "what's going on—?"

Never finishing, Darcy saw Ophelia run towards her brother as Lupin lowered his wand and walked to his side as well, they both hulled him to his feet and Crookshanks fell to the floor—and then they all hugged.

Darcy felt her throat vibrate like it had never before. She was growing a much stronger headache, and it felt like she was holding in a scream.

"I DON'T BELIEVE IT!" Hermione screamed.

Lupin and Ophelia let go of Black and turned to her. Hermione was off the floor and pointed at Lupin, wild eyes. "You—you—"

"Hermione—"

"—you and him!"

"Hermione, calm down—"

"I didn't tell anyone!" Hermione shrieked. "I've been covering up for you—"

Darcy had flinched from the loud voices. She brought herself down, staring wide-eyed at Ophelia.

"I trusted you!" Harry shouted at Lupin, his voice wavering out of control, "and all this time you've been his friend!"

Ophelia was tending to her brother, pushing the long and dirty strands of hair out of his face.

"You're wrong," said Lupin. "I haven't been Sirius's friend, but I am now—Let me explain..."

"NO!" Hermione screamed. "Harry don't listen to him—or  _her_. Lupin—he's a werewolf!"

Darcy closed her eyes, holding her head in her arms and trying to numb this pain that circled around her throat and head. Ophelia had noticed during the silence of Remus being a werewolf, that Darcy was tucked away.

"How long have you known?" said Lupin.

"Ages," Hermione whispered. "Since I did Professor Snape's essay..."

Ophelia gave a dry laugh. "Oh—of course Severus  _would_ ," she said, glaring at Lupin. "Sadly, I wasn't there to substitute for you, Remus. You know, Hermione, you really are quite the witch—"

"I'd say the cleverest witch of your age," Lupin said to Hermione.

"I'm not, If I would've just told everyone what you are!"

"But they do," Ophelia said softly and she stepped away from Sirius.

"The staff, though," added Lupin.

"Dumbledore hired you when he knew you were a werewold?" Ron gasped. "Is he mad?"

"Some of the staff thought so," said Lupin. "He worked really hard to convince certain teachers that I'm trustworthy—"

"AND HE WAS WRONG!" Harry yelled. "YOU'VE BEEN HELPING HIM ALL THE TIME!" He was pointing at Black, who was now on the bed with a shaky hand covering his face. Crookshanks leapt up onto his lap and Ron edged away.

"I have not been helping Sirius," said Lupin. "If you could just let me explain—"

He threw the wands back to Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Darcy, who did not move from her position. Ophelia had moved closer to Darcy.

"How did you know he was here?" Harry said furiously.

"The map," said Ophelia simply as she sat on the bed, facing Darcy.

"The Marauder's map to be exact. Ophelia and I were in my office, examining it—"

"You know how to work it?" Harry said suspiciously.

"Of course we know how to open it, Harry," said Ophelia impatiently. "Who else would Foxtrot be?"

"We helped write it," Lupin said. "I'm Moony, she's Foxtrot—it was our friends' nickname for us at school."

"You wrote—?"

And there it began, the expenditure of realizing that two people's name had been dragged down the Whomping Willow by Sirius—Peter Pettigrew and Ron Weasley.

Darcy had wanted to voice her words for so long. Sometimes, she felt like she could it, but they always ended in her disappointment. The potions she drank and spells she's endured had done nothing to her. Though, maybe it was sudden urge and need—the extreme emotions she's felt—was strong enough for Darcy to mutter a simple, irrelevant word that only she could here.

She had made almost a low growl in an attempt to say, " _Vega_."

No one had heard, but Darcy was certain she heard her own name come out of her mouth.

When her head whipped up so fast—too fast, as she had dark spots covering her sight—Ron had actually flinched.

"Even Darcy things you both are nutters!" he said to Ophelia and Lupin.

Rasing her wand, Ophelia pointed it at Scabbers. "Listen, Ron, I've been trying to tell everyone that Peter had done it—because I knew Sirius had switched and no one believed me. So,  _give me Peter—_ "

"HE'S NOT PETER, HE'S SCABBERS!" Ron yelled, trying to force the rat back into his pocket.

"Witnesses saw Black kill Pettigrew," Harry said.

"They didn't see what they thought they saw!" said Black savagely, watching Scabbers.

The explaining was that there were three unregistered Animagi—one being Sirius and the other Peter. Darcy was zoning in and out. It was either listening to her crazy father's rage about killing the rat, or it was dreaming...sleeping about her voice.

But it was the story of Professor Lupin's life at Hogwarts that made her stay awake.

"When Dumbledore became Headmaster, he was sympathetic to my conddtion. He that as long as we took certain precautions, thre was no reason I shouldn't come to school..." lupin sighed and looked directly at Harry. "I told you, months ago, that the whomping willow was planted the year I came to Hogwarts. The truth is that it was planted because I came to Hogwarts...I had pain in these transformations. Instead of imflicting pain on others, I did so on me. When the villagers had heard the screaming, they though they were hearig spiritrs—and Dumbledore encouraged the rumor...

"Yet, apart from my transformations I was happier than I had ever been in my life. For the first time ever, I had friends, four great friends. Sirius and Ophelia Black...Peter Pettigrew...and, of course, your father, Harry—James Potter.

"They didn't desert me when they found out I was a werewolf. Instead they did something for me that would make my transformation not only bearable, but the best times of my life. They became Animagi."

"My dad too?" Harry said, astounded.

"Yes," Ophelia said softly from the bed with a mystic smile. "I remember trotting next to your father—those were good times."

"They were," said Lupin. "Three years to figure it out. Your father and Sirius were the cleverest students in the school, and lucjy they were, because Animagus transformation can go absurdly wrong—one reason why the ministry keeps close watch on the. Peter and Ophelia needed all the help they could get from James and Sirius. And they did it—they can turn willingly."

Darcy looked up, this time meeting the eyes of Ophelia. Then, she looked away and spotted Sirius watching Scabbers.

"With them being animals, my transformation were less hostile and we were even leaving the shrieking shack, roaming the school grounds. James and Sirius were such large animals, they could keep an eye on a werewolf. I doubt there's any student who knew the grounds of Hogwarts and Hogsmeade better than we did...And that's how the Marauder's Map, and sign it with our nicknames. Sirius is Padfoot. Peter is Wormtail. James is Prongs."

"What sort of animal—?" Harry began, but Hermione cut him off.

"That was very dangerous! What if you bitten somebody?"

"A thought that still haunts me," said Lupin heavily. "And there were near misses, many of them. We laughed about them afterwards. We were young, thoughtless—carried away with our own cleverness.

"I sometimes felt guilty for betraying Dumbledore'e trust—which was what made me a coward. I could bring myself to tell Dumbledore Sirius was an nregistered Animagus, and convince myself that he was using the Dark Arts...so Snape's been right about me all along."

"Snape?" said Black harshly, taking hus eyes of Scabbres for the first time. "What's he go to do with it?"

"He teaches here, too," Ophelia said. "Severus never liked your father, Harry—or any of us, actually. We didn't like him much either. So when he went around, sniffing around, Sirius thought his trick involving Remus—"

"It served him right," Sirius sneered. "Sneaking aroung, trying to find out what we were up to...hoping to get us expelled—though he was nice to Ophelia, yet he still was willing to sacrifice her."

"Severus did end up finding out Remus was a werewolf," scolded Ophelia at Sirius. "And you nearly got him killed when you told him to poke the knot with a stick. You know, I understand, Severus had started to invest in the Dark Arts, but now that I think about it, it was probably because we bullied him so much—we made him hate us.

"Either way, Severus was curious and he did what Sirius said. Went to the willow and actually got inside—I even nipped at his trousers to go back! He didn't but thank the lord James had heard what Sirius did and pulled Severus out. Severus was forbidden to tell anyone what he saw, but he knew."

"Is that why Severus hates you?" Harry said. "He thought you all were in on the joke?"

"Yes," a voice sneered. Snape was at the doorframe, his face filled with triumph.

Everyone had jumped from where they stood. Snape had attacked Lupin and Ophelia, their hands tied by coils of dark tendrils.

Darcy stepped closer to Ophelia, moving her mouth to say "stop."

Though Snape had seen her try to attempt to speak, he glared at Sirius as he attempted to attack Snape who pointed his wand at Sirius.

"Give me a reason to do it, and I swear I will," Snape sneered.

Sirius stopped did, and Darcy furrowed her eyebrows. She took a deep breathe.

One...two...three...

"We—!" Ophelia said, but she abruptly stopped at the sound of her own voice. She grasped her neck, and she looked marveled.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron both looked shookingly at the mute girl who just spoke. Even Snape was shocked to hear the girl's voice.

"We should listen," Darcy rasped again. Her voice was hoarse, like Sirius's, but she had a more dulcet tone than his. She sounded more angelic, if Harry was being honest, but as angelic as hoarse voices go.

Snape glowered at Darcy. "You can speak now, Young Black," he sneered, still pointing the wand towards Darcy and her father.

Sirius had stepped in front of Darcy, his face showing the utmost hatred it could fathom. "Don't you dare point your wand at my daughter—"

Though, Harry was the first to act. " _Expelliarmus_!" he shouted, and instead of Snape's wand being thrown off—it was Snape being thrown towards the wall.

Darcy flinched and already Ophelia was by her side and free from the black coils that held them, asking her if she was alright—and honestly, she could do with a nap. Speaking had taken its toll on her.

After fussing over Scabbers being just a regular rat, Darcy made herself sit down on the bed. It made  _strange_  sense that Peter was the rat. She believed that Sirius had switched "secret keepers" with Peter. She just—she just wanted to rest. And she wanted to wake up, having her father...

"Ron," hissed Darcy, closing her eyes because now it seemed her voice was like needles, "give—Lupin—the rat—or I—will— _strangle_ —you."

"Darcy!" Ron said in a scandalized tone. "She's got a voice, and suddenly the sass has blossomed!"

Either way, Ron agreed, and handed the rat to Lupin. Sirius and he both shot these spells at the rat as it ran wildly—and suddenly, once it did hit the rat, it began to grow larger—and larger. It made Darcy feel oddly sick watching.

Ophelia stood up, her wand pointed at the rat-like man with think blonde hair. "Peter," she said, "I've been around for how long, and I never got a visit?"

Lupin had eyed the man. "Long time, no see."

"P-Philly! Si-Sirius...Remus!" said the squeaky voice of Peter Pettigrew. But his eyes were darting to the door. "My friends...my friends..."

When Sirius's wand hand rose, Peter shrunk away and looked at Remus. "Oh, Remus! He's come to kill me! You don't believe him do you?"

"So I've has," Lupin said more coldly. "I'd like to—"

"He's come to kill me!" Peter squeaked and pointed at Black. "He killed Lily and James and he's going to kill me too...You've got to help me, Remus..."

"Oh, stop," spat Ophelia, her eyes glinting a dangerous shade of grey and her hair turning a little red. "You are pathetic and weak, Pettigrew—all my work for delaying You-Know-Who's plans to kill James—and Lily—gone to waste because we trusted a  _rat_ —a spylike you!"

Pettigrew shrunk from her cruel words. "Me, a spy...must be out of your mind...never...don't know how you can say such a—"

"You were secret keeper because I suggested it—it was a bluff that even Ophelia agreed to when she was the spy under Voldemort's nose!" Sirius hissed venomously.

"Can I say something?" Hemrione said quietly.

"Oh course," Lupin said courteously.

"If this—man—well, he's been sleeping in Harry's dormitory for three years. Why wouldn't he kill Harry?"

"I'll tell you why!" Black said. "Because he's only every done anything is something was in to for free—in his case, kill James and Lily for his life and  _loyalty_  to Voldemort!"

Pettigrew had fallen to his knees, only this time he was looking at Ron. "I've been a good person...a good pet!" he said and crawled towards Ron.

Ron's eyes widened and he scimpered back. "I let you sleep with me!"

"Yes! Yes! I was a good...good master..."

Disgusted, Ophelia stepping in between Ron and Peter. "How desperate are you—claiming you were a better rat than human?"

And after Darcy's stomach growled, she laid herself down on the bed. She liked closing her eyes...maybe she would dream about food. It sounded good, since she skipped her lunch and dinner and it was very dark...

. . . .

It was unfortunate that Darcy didn't get to say goodbye to her father, who had always been innocent. Darcy felt terrible that she didn't believe Ophelia in the first place. It left her motionless in Miss Pomfrey's infirmary.

Funny...Darcy always wanted to help people. It's what she strived to do. Healing was her area of expertise. And here she was, in the infirmary.

Ron was beside her, and they made small conversation. He's complain about his leg, and then marvel at her voice. He was there when Pomfrey had diagnosed her with light malnutrition. Darcy hadn't been eating as much as she should've in the past month, which was why everything went by so fast and why she passed out in the Shrieking Shack.

"I dunno," Darcy answered Ron when he asked how she spoke. "I wanted to speak ever since I was little—even threw my own little silent tantrums when no one heard me..."

Ron laughed, and she did as well. "That would be a blessing! A silent baby! Though, it would suck..."

Darcy nodded and grinned at him. "I think I just...I managed to break my curse when Siri—oh, I mean Padfoot—was there and everyone wanted to kill him... but he is my father, Ron. I couldn't...I love him."

He nodded. "No, I understand. Even if your father was very  _cryptic_ —I dunno why it took them so long to explain himself..."

"Yeah...I wonder when we'll see him again..."

. .

Dumbledore had announced that Professor Lupin's  _situation_  was found out by a certain man and that he could no longer work at Hogwarts. Hermione had broken the news about that. She also explained why Harry and she disappeared into midair and then came back through the door. Darcy was still tired, but intrigued. She thanked Hermione for releasing Sirius, and congratulated her on freeing Buckbeat.

"Sirius told me," she whispered quietly, "to tell you that he very much wants to keep in touch with you...He wishes that things could be better so that you and Harry could be...a family."

Darcy was warmed by this and she hugged Hermione, mumbling another thank you.

"Speaking of," said Hermione, "you can  _speak_! How! You've never mentioned the celestial rock being found..."

"I told Ron that I think love is what broke my curse," Darcy said. "I didn't want anyone killing Padfoot, especially Snape..."

Hermione nodded. "It's a good theory—we wouldn't know. But your accent, Darce! It's like, American..."

. .

Ophelia Black entered the infirmary, her eyes already on Darcy. Ron had demanded he wanted to leave early, and boasted how the bandages will attract a lot of attention.

"How're you doing?" she asked when she sat next to her. "It's been a few days. Miss Pomfrey says that you can get out today."

Darcy nodded, her hands were clutching a book—Reverse Cursing. She'd grown attached to the content inside...How it helped her understand that dangers of curses and how to fix them. That, and it had been a sort of comfort and confidence to her. She poured her hope into the book.

"When will we see my dad," Darcy whispered, her eyes casted down. She still found it odd how people could hear themselves speak. Her head pounded every time she spoke.

Ophelia grimly smiled, pushing the thick dark hair back from her tan face. "We don't know...Peter escaped and we have no proof to prove Padfoot it innocent."

"Okay," she said glumly, "so a long time?"

"Don't worry," said Ophelia. She reached to her robe's pocket and pulled out an envelope. "This came in the mail for you."

Greedily, Darcy took the letter. It was rough around the edges and she opened it.

_Vega Darcy Black,_

_It is very odd. Seeing your child for the first time in twelve years. I couldn't imagine how it was like for you, Darcy—as you like to be called Darcy. Vega is an inherited name through the Black family. As much bad experiences Ophelia and I have been through when were still children with my mother and father, we liked the tradition of being named after stars..._

_You were born on the second of November, the day before my birthday. It was like an early gift, and I was so glad to have held you in my arms..._

_Darcy, you have mostly taken your mother's looks. Her tan was just as bright as yours, and her hair was silky and long—like yours. Although we didn't have time to spend with each other, I could already feel that fatherly love. Anna—your mum—had been very well aware of the wizard world, and knew the risks of being with me._

_Sadly, your mother has passed. I'd taken her to England when we had you, and you even spent a few playdates with Harry himself when he was about five months old...Oh, how odd time seems to play on us. Anna had taken refuge with the Longbottoms when I went over to check on Lily and James—but they were gone._

_It was all my fault, Darcy. Everyone was torn apart, because of me. If I'd never gone after Peter, and not to Anna and you, you wouldn't have been mute—but anger and justice took over...and we know how that ended._

_So, I've heard that my cousin, Bellatrix was the one that put that put that blasted curse on you...Yet, I am also shocked to have heard your voice...Alice and Frank Longbottom had tried their hardest to protect Anna, you, and their son, Neville._

_I hope to see you sooner, Darcy. I wanted to discuss how North America was like. It would be much better to speak with you—with your newfound voice._

_—Your father._

Darcy clutched the letter close to her chest, her eyes glinting with tears. It wouldn't be for a long time that she wouldn't see her father. More than ever, Darcy wanted a father—someone whom she can live with...

Ophelia was that person, but even she has grown aloof when they reached Hogwarts. And, like she said, she didn't know how to care for a child.

Nonetheless, Ophelia was family and Darcy loved her with all her heart. She's been there for her, and it was the best that Darcy could ask for. She was even a little shocked that Harry and she had "playdates" when they were babies. It really did seem like time made them strangers. Under different circumstances, they could've been best friends if they grew up togehter—or not, since what she's heard of Harry's no-maj guardians that they aren't keen on him being a wizard.

After being dressed into normal, muggle clothing, Darcy headed to the Great Hall. Ophelia had gone and packed their belongings. She spotted Hermione, Ron, and Harry sitting together.

"Hello," Darcy said quietly to the group, her eyes adverting around the loud hall.

Hermione smiled at her. "You're out!" she exclaimed, hugging her. "It's so nice to hear your voice."

Darcy blushed and she looked over at Harry, who had a letter in his hands. "Is that from  _him_?" she asked.

Harry glanced over at her letter and nodded. "He gave Ron an owl," Harry said.

"Oh! I was wondering, Darcy, if you wanted to come to the burrow—Ron was too embarrassed to ask," Hermione asked. "It's actually for the Quidditch World Cup."

Darcy nearly spat her drink. "You—wait, Ron—are you kidding!"

Although he was blushing, he nodded ferociously. "Yeah! My dad's got tickets with the help of the ministry..."

Darcy's eyes widened. "I...that's so cool, Ron."

Ron looked over at Harry. "Dad scored even more than what we needed, so when we get home tomorrow at King's Cross, I'll send you my owl. Harry and Hermione'll be there."

"Oh, well, that makes me want to go even more, Ron."

"There she goes with the bloody sarcasm!"

Harry grinned at Darcy, catching her eyes as she was laughing. He had to admit, she looked much better. Her skin didn't look yellow like illness, and she wasn't slouching as much. She was confident, and her voice rang true.


	8. floo tongues

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: Darry feels amiright. amirightttttttt.

****"Are you sure this is...safe?" Darcy asked Mrs. Weasley, eyeing the glittering powder in her hand. "I just say ' _Harry Potter's home_ ' and I'll be there?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded. "Nothing to worry about, darling!" SHe trotted off to upstairs, where she wanted to finish swooping the place up.

Charlie had been the first after her to try to coax her. "You saw Fred, George, and Ron--they all went in  _one piece,_ " he said to her, with a convincing smile.

"Yeah, but, this is my first time," said Darcy, still very skeptical of this new European transportation. 

The summer had been mostly at the Burrow, because sadly, Ophelia had failed to get a decent house in the muggle quarters of Britain. Ophelia was beyond embarassed when she asked Arthur and Molly Weasley if they could stay here, as somehow Britain seemed to be going through houses like no other.

The Weasley's did welcome the Black's with open arms, though they did not have room. Ophelia did come prepared, though. She brought a heavily charmed  _hut_ , that seemed to build itself with magic from Ophelia's trunk.

The hut was small, and Mr. Weasley marveled at the small hut that looked like a porta-potty. When Darcy voiced that it looked like so, Mr. Weasley had laughed and walked inside. The inside, surprisingly, was the size of a...regualr  _house_. It appeared to Darcy that Ophelia couldn't simply find property that would get them kicked out at hobbos.

"In America all we had to do was rent out a building in the city..." Ophelia muttered to the Weasley's about her problem with Britain. "There would be a whole extended floor for wizards!"

Her father had even given her a plethora of letters, always asking if she was okay. Always worrying of people pestering her. Ophelia had grown farther away from Darcy, and it seemed rather unpleasant. Of course, Darcy's father did send Ophelia letters, only they seemed stricken. Ophelia was a more physical person, this Darcy knew, because words for Darcy weren't a gateway to her emotions.

So the Black's stayed for the weeks into summer. Ophelia had already said Darcy could go to the World Cup, and struggling enough, paid the Weasley's back. Humble people they were...

Ron and Hermione were even amazed to the hut with so much space inside. Sometimes Hermione and Ginny would stay at the hut for so long that it got dark and they decided to sleepover. Even Ron had slept over when Hermione and Ginny were out riding bikes and Darcy was a little ill. He was kind enough to bring me soup that Ophelia made in the burrow, which was why when he got yelled out for sleeping over, it wasn't that bad.

And speaking of...

From Darcy's position on the the fireplace, there were two bodies that nearly toppled her to the floor if it weren't for Charlie's quick reflexes.

Fred and George were laughing as they walked out of the fireplace. "Darcy, where were you!" George said.

"Harry had been a little bummed to not see you!" Fred finished after, though giving her a humorous look. "Should've  _seen_  his cousin--started choking on his own  _tongue_  when--"

The next person to come from the flames was Ron. "Dad's gonna give you an ear full," he muttered to them but there was the wide smile that he had on his face. He saw Darcy still holding the floo powder in her hand. "Did you cramp up?" he said, and moved her hand over to the pot of floo powder, letting the dust go from her hand. 

Darcy glared at Ron playfully. "I got scared," she admitted. "Charlie tried to convince me that no body parts would be lost."

She walked with Ron, over to the wooden table and sat with them. Bill, the eldest of the Weasley brothers, had been sitting, humorously looking at Charlie. 

"Wasn't  very convincing, honestly," Bill said. "Nobody can be dragon keepers, and have an iron courage."

The green flames of the fireplace erupted again, only this time revealing Harry on the ground. Fred and George were the first to pounce on the boy.

"So, did he eat it?" said Fred excitedly, helping Harry up.

"Yeah," said Harry, "What were those?"

"Ton-tongue toffee," said Fred brightly with pride. "George and I made them, and we've been looking to test them out..."

Darcy grinned as the entire kitchen busted with laughter, looking over at Ron. "Clever name," she said. "Now I wish I was there."

Charlie and Bill had introduced themselves to Harry, who looked rather intimidated by the two. Darcy had the same reaction when meeting the tall red-heads. 

"Hello Harry," Darcy said brightly, though she didn't go to hug him and gave a small wave. If Hermione were there with her, Darcy would feel much better.

Harry was about to greet her back, but a faint pop was heard and after came the voice of Mr. Weasley. 

"That wasn't funny, Fred!" he shouted. "What on earth did you give that poor Muggle boy?"

"I didn't give him anything," said Fred with an evil grin. "I only dropped them...his fault for eating it, I never told him to."

"You dropped them on purpose!" roared Mr. Weasley. "You knew he'd eat it!"

"How big did his tongue get!" George said eagerly.

"Four feet before his parents would let me  _shrink it--"_

The entire kitchen roared with laughter again.

"It isn't funny!" Mr. Weasley said. "I spent my who laugh campaigning against muggle restrictions--and my own sons--"

"We didn't give it to him because he was muggle!" said Fred indignantly.

"He's a right bullying git," added George. "Right, Harry?"

"Yeah, he is, Mr. Weasley," Harry said earnestly.

"Not the point!" Mr. Weasley said. "You just wait until I tell your mother--!"

"Tell me what?" said a voice behind Mr. Weasley.

Darcy coughed when she spotted Mrs. Weasley there, her eyes narrowed at her husband. Ron patted her back, but he was grinning madly.

When Mrs. Weasley asked again, Hermione and Ginny appeared from behind her. The two girls smiled at Harry, which returned back.

When Ginny had gone a scarlet color, Darcy couldn't help but look away. She felt her stomach flutter, feeling a slight twist in her chest. It had happened not long after Darcy had stayed here, feeling this weirdness whenever Ginny gushed to Hermione and Darcy about Harry. She didn't like it, because she genuinly liked the girl.

It was why Darcy had started to hang out more with Ron, because even at the moment with Mrs. Weasley glaring at her husband, they saw Darcy's face tinged with red.

When things were pretty heated between the Weasley twins, Hermione had said, "Why don't you show Harry where he's sleeping, Ron?"

"He knows where he's sleeping," said Ron, but Darcy shoved his shoulder. "Oh, sorry. Yeah, c'mon..."

The five kids began trudging upstairs, making small talk with Percy's smug reports for the Ministry. 

When they reached the top, where Ron's room , Darcy cooed, "Piggy! C'mere, Harry's here!" Ron's owl, was caged up and hopping madly.

Ron described that "Pig" or "Piggy" was shortened from its name given to Ginny, Pigwidgeon [whom was influenced by Darcy about her house at Ilvermorny, Pukwudgie]. Harry had looked at Darcy, who was smiling kindly at the tiny owl with adoration. Fred and George were also sleeping in the room, since their rooms were housing Bill and Charlie.

"Have you gotten your food parcels, Harry," Hermione asked, also watching him intently looking at Darcy.

He broke his gaze from Darcy and answered, "Yeah, thanks alot. They save my life, those cakes."

"And have you heard from--" Ron started, but Hermione's glare had cut him off. 

Darcy peeked back at the four, her eyes watching Harry. Ron was going to ask about Sirius, and now she was curious to now if he did contact Harry. However, Ginny was in the room, and no body knew about Sirius's innocent except the Ophelia and Dumbledore. Not even the Weasleys, who've been generous to let them stay here.

"You've cut your hair," said Harry suddenly to Darcy. He hadn't noticed it until now, when Pigwidgeon had started nibbling at it.

"Oh, yeah," Darcy said. "Fred and George singed off one side of my hair when they were experimenting."

"Can you believe it?" Ginny laughed. "Darcy kept quiet about their experiments for a  _week_  and then they invited her in their room--she comes out with one side of her shorter than the other."

Darcy smiled widely, her shoulders shaking lightly with laughter. "They promised me free goods when they start their Joke Shop, how could I say no?"

"As vocal as she is," Hermione grinned, "Darcy's still very quiet."

Harry caught the dark look in Darcy's eyes at the mention of her muteness. She covered it quickly, shaking her head at Hermione.

When the lot had set up for dinner and cleaned when they were finished, it left Darcy and Harry alone as they took the trash out.

"So has Sirius spoken to you?" Darcy asked quietly, lifting the trash bin with her hip. She stared intently at Harry, focused only on him.

Harry nodded. "Yes," he said softly, "twice. He sounds okay, I wrote to him yesterday, I may get one here."

"He barely says anything in my letters," Darcy said, shoveling the trash in the bin. Harry did the same, and he got close to see the sparkling rock that was around her neck like a collar. The copper metal that held it glimmered, like magic, and the jagged multi-color rock surrounded a very small jewel at the center.

"What's that?" Harry questioned, pointing to the jewel.

Darcy touched her neck, then she blushed. He got the feeling that it could've been a gift from a boy. Which was fine...

"I forget that I never told you," Darcy said, her eyes furrowed at the ground at their walking feet.

"Well, we had letters, didn't we? You sent me those American capri-suns, and even those really sweet tortillas..."

" _Gorditas_!" Darcy said with laughter, and she began sit on the edge of a log. 

Harry sat next to her, and he felt his cheeks blush. "Oh," he said meekly. "They were good, by the way. I could've gotten as fat at Dudley if you kept sending them."

Darcy peered at Harry, her eyes glinting with amusement. "My mother was hispanic," she murmured. "Sirius made it simple for me to understand in one of his letters, but I ended up speaking with Ophelia. He married a woman in America named Anna Maria Sanchez. She was a  _no-maj_. Muggle."

Harry became silent. "What does gordita mean?"

Smiling, Darcy said in her most authentic accent, "A fat, little girl."

Harry's face broke out into a smile. "So Dudley?"

"Basically," Darcy said with a shrug. "Sirius actually gave me a recipe. My mom liked to make them for him, and he said he loved them  _so much_. He himself called them sweet tortillas..." She signed, her eyes furrowed. She still hadn't answered what they jewel around her neck was. "We used to have play dates, Harry."

Staring wide-eyed at the girl. "Wha--what?" The idea of ever having been with Darcy when they we babies seemed so unreal. They had never been in each others lives. "That's...shocking."

"Unreal, is what I think you're  trying to say, Harry."

He smiled, liking that she knew what he meant. 

"This rock is from the Black Lake," said Darcy, as she pressed her fingers on her neck. "I don't know if Hermione has told you, but I used to be obsessed with a book of Reversing Curses."

He actually recalled when they first spoke to each other, he had dropped her books and one of them was reversing curses. He listened more carefully.

"I wanted to reverse my curse using more mythical methods. I came across the celestial rock, which could only be given willingly by the merpeople--and could only work when the merperson wishes its will onto the rock...It's weird magic."

"So, what exactly does that rock do?" said Harry, leaning closer to look at her neck. "You could already speak without it."

"Yeah," Darcy said, "I thought I was in the clear, but curses have their ways. I broke it when I was in a moment of conflict between Sirius dying and you getting hurt. I started speaking more, but I realized that my vocals weren't accustomed to the older and deeper vibrations and I'd get massive headaches...traumatic seizures..."

"So you went to the merpeople?" Harry said.

"I had to. That rock...Ophelia was so worried...She didn't want me to go in there, even though she was in good terms with them before."

"How did you even speak to them?"

"Underwater...they're voices are very nice," Darcy said. "It made me jealous that they had such nice voices. They all surrounded me, casting bubble charms for me to breathe. They were kind. It was like trying on robes--they were sizing my neck and my vocals. And the next thing I know, I'm with Ophelia on the shore, with this attached to me. It was weird, but when I first spoke, it wasn't painful."

Harry could only imagine Darcy being surrounded by beautiful women, like they typical stories he's hear. But, that wasn't really the same when it came to real life.

"Hermione and Ron only know the basics," Darcy whispered, looking at Harry. "I feel closer to you, sometimes. Like we can tell each other anything."

The little skip in Harry's heart beat only told him that he was happy about that. "I do too, actually," he quietly, feeling a little more confident. "You were always different."

"You are too," she said, her eyes flickering up to the sun setting. "So understanding. You've been through a lot at such a young age."

It was silent, and Harry's thoughts wondered to the pain on his forhead not long ago. Darcy had told him more than he had asked, and he was grateful that she trusted him.

At the sun's cue to disappear behind the valley, Harry said, "My scars been hurting, lately."

Darcy's eyes moved to the lightening bolt scar, it's tissue pinker and brighter. Last year it was a deeper shade of tan, but even looking at it...she thought it would hurt.

"Why is that?" she said, her voice more pitched. She turned her body towards him. "You should...you should tell someone--have you?"

"Only you and Sirius," Harry replied. "But, please, Darcy, don't tell anyone else. I don't want it to seem like I'm searching for attention. I don't want to worry anyone."

Darcy stared wide-eyed at him. "You--Harry, you can't--this is your well-being. You ahve--"

The front door of the burrow had opened and Harry covered Darcy's mouth with his hand. Mr. Weasley and Ophelia had walked out and spotted the two sitting at the pile of firewood.

"Darce?" Ophelia asked, her wizard robes still on with a vibrant green and black pattern. "Hello, Harry," she added and smiled.

"Hello, Professor," Harry said, and quickly pulled his hand away from Darcy's mouth when she slapped it.

"Hi," Darcy said and stood up, helping Harry as well. She gave him a worried look.  "Where've you been?"

Shrugging off her green coat, Ophelia walked towards the two and hugged them both. "Dumbledore wanted me to go on and recruit some first years...Quite rude some muggles are here, in Britain."

"Ophelia's been complaining a lot about British folk," Darcy said to Harry. "She liked it in America."

"It was much better!" Ophelia defended herself. "Either way, I'd say I think about fifteen first years aren't coming to Hogwarts."

"Are you serious?" Harry gasped. "You can't be that bad!"

Wickedly, Ophelia ruffled his hair. It was a rather bold gesture from Ophelia, but ever since she saw Sirius, she was more rambunctious.

"Of course I'm not my brother," Ophelia cheekily said.

"Ophelia, really?" Darcy deadpanned. 

"Okay, okay, sorry," Ophelia chuckled and waved her wand as a light was appeared. "I'm the Muggle Studies teacher, Harry. I didn't make their  _tongues_  grow nearly as tall as them. But, they seemed to relax when I told them I taught that subject and fully forgave my Massachusetts attitude."

"It's getting pretty late, kids," Mr. Weasley called out. "You all need to wake up pretty early for tomorrow."

Harry nodded. "See you tomorrw, Darcy. Have a good night, Ophelia."

"You too, Harry," Ophelia brightly said, pulling Darcy towards the hut. Darcy had to remember to give Harry a tour of the place. Maybe tomorrow in the morning or not.

 


	9. foreign schools

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/n: another chapter. I'm thankful that y'all are reading my trash stories. Also a v short summary of Ophelia's years from first to third year. pic is NOT MINE, i got it from tumblr, still trying to find the author.

****"No _Ron_!"

"But it looks just about right--"

Darcy grabbed the tent pole out of his hands when we has going to stab it into the ground. "It doesn't got spikes, now, does it?" she said, "Or else you'd have stuck every pole to the ground and tossed a bed sheet over it?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Blimey, Darce, you've got quite the bite."

Darcy handed Harry the poll, since he and Hermione were more experienced with this.

Earlier in the morning, Darcy actually woke up very late, tossing and turning at the thought of Harry's scar hurting. Her mood had been cranky and she was even more cranky when Harry hadn't told Hermione or Ron.

She didn't even plan her outfit, and she was wearing a wind breaker that was so colorful with blues and pinks and oranges it could really blind anyone's eyes. And to make it worse, Darcy ripped her jeans when she tripped on her own boots on a trees root. Mr. Weasley had cleaned the mud off her and healed her cut. Though he couldn't fix her jeans, and the windbreaker was doing no good to keep her warm.

Harry had even worried that she didn't eat a lot for breakfast. He was going to offer her a bar, but he saw her pull out a packed sandwich a take a big bite out of it. When he and Hermione finished setting the tents, Mr. Weasley had sent the four to go get water.

Darcy held tight around Hermione, her eyes glancing around the familiar faces. There was Ernie MacMillan, a Hufflepuff that called out Darcy's bright jacket as Irish. Cho Chang, a Ravenclaw with pretty features had made Harry slosh his water in front of him.

"Smooth," Darcy snickered as she carried yet another tank of water. But, her water also spilled when she caught a group of teenagers from many. There were obviously the European foreign schools, but what caught her eye was the Irish clad American group from Ilvernmorny.

"You okay?" Hermione asked, lightly.

"Yeah, fine," Darcy said dismissively, her eyes adverting the American group when they made their way past them.

The group got more similar--it was a mix of Pukwudgie and Horned Serpent students, they're faces light with laughter and chants. Though there were a few who supported Bulgaria.

"Hey...Is that--and Darcy?" said a feminine voice as they walked by.

Darcy whipped her head around at the mention of her name. There, the blonde with stunning blue eyes and a perked nose was staring wide-eyed at the group of four. They locked eyes, and suddenly Darcy felt her heart drop.

A fellow friend of Darcy in her first two years of Ilvermorny was dead-stop watching.

A force so strong pulled Darcy's attention away, her stomach feeling empty with nervousness.

"Darcy!" the voice yelled.

Hermione gave a weird look around. "Did someone say your name, Darcy?"

"You heard that too?" Ron said as well. "Who'd be calling over Darcy?"

Pauline Johnson had caught up to the group of four, her long curly hair was like an bush on her head as it bounced. Harry had glanced at Darcy, not sure who this girl is as she looked like Crevey in a way.

Darcy gave Pauline a nervous smile, clutching the tank of water closer to her.

No one in North America knew who Sirius Black was. It was the reason why Ophelia had moved there, because  _no one knew who they were_  as opposed to Europe. Pauline Johnson was a friend of Darcy. They often spent their afternoons together.

But now that Sirius Black had escaped Azkaban, the world was alert--they all knew who his daughter and sister were.

Pauline smiled breathlessly. "It's--It's great to see you, Darcy," she said in awestruck. "I never would've thougth Ophelia would let you to go across the sea for the World Cup!"

Darcy glanced at Hermione, Ron, and Harry. They were all listening intently, which furthermore lead her to feel uncomfortable.

"Oh, I live in England, Pauline," said Darcy, shooting a weak smile at her.

The blonde girls eyes widened, she hadn't expected her to  _speak_. "Does--you can speak now?"

Harry had stepped up, not sure if this girl was trustworthy. "What's it to you if she can?"

Darcy snapped her head at Harry, shocked that his tone was protective. With her free hand, she placed her hand on Harry's chest to tell him to back down.

"I can, Pauline," said Darcy, "I've changed a lot."

Nodding frantically she said, "Oh, yeah! Sorry, if I came off as rude, Mr. Potter. Didn't even know you knew Harry Potter, to be honest..."

Darcy smiled. She remembered how talkative Pauline was. Though, now that she recalls this, Darcy barely ever spoke and only listened.

"I just," sighed Pauline her eyes meeting Darcy's, "I missed you. So does everyone in the dorm."

To be honest, Darcy didn't miss her friends at Ilvermorny. She was only there to listen, but even so, Darcy told her she did as well.

"Well--I gotta head back," Pauline said, noticing the awkwardness. "Or my group will leave me!" and as she walked away, she turned around, cheering at the four. "IRELAND! IRELAND!"

Darcy laughed. Nearly everyone in Ilvermorny was an Irish fan. After all, their founder was Irish.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Ron gasped, "Why're Americans here?"

"Maybe because they like Quidditch too," Darcy nonchalantly said and trudged along segregation them as they walked back to the tents.

"Why're they going for Irish?" Ron grumbled.

Hermione was not surprised that Ron barley did any research in the foreign schools. Harry learned something new though. He supposed there probably was a lot more wizarding schools than Hogwarts.

"An Irish woman built the Ilvermorny," Hermione said. "Honestly, you'd think you would now this--by the way, was that an old friend, Darcy?"

Darcy nodded. She didn't want to talk about her past at Ilvermorny. Harry had noticed the look of passiveness in her face. It was the same LOOK he gave his friends when he didn't want to speak of his past as well.

. . . .

 **1970-1973**  
 **When Love Changes**  
______________________

Ophelia Black had changed a lot on three years.

First year was spent with her sticking closer to her brother. She laughed and loosened her walls around James, Remus, and Peter. They were a new family that she couldn't help but love.

She loved how Hogwarts gave her safety. It protected her from the cruel walls of Walburga and silence of Orion. The castle had its beauty, and Ophelia loved to escape and just walk around the place.

It was second year, and the summer was dreadful. Walburga refrained from hurting Ophelia, as the young girl threatened to call the ministry.

Sirius was glad to see his sister defend herself in front of his mum. She was fiery and beautiful, she was growing up.

It was during the school year that Ophelia's hair had changed a different color. It happened when James had claimed he was curious about Lily Evans and Severus Snape. He wanted to know if they were "dating". It was twelve year old I infatuation, that James had with Lily. He wanted to make Severus' life a living hell.

It was when James pulled aside Ophelia when her hair turned the shade of red. He asked her to go on a date with her, as she was the only girl that he genuinely spoke to.

Ophelia said no, but she was angry that he would ask such a thing to make Lily jealous. Lily had no interests in James because of his severely rude manners towards Severus.

James though, had changed his mind that year when he asked Ophelia out. He saw her hair--a red that was like the Gryffindor tie of his, and he was so interested in how her hair could do that.

Of course, he knew that Ophelia was mad, but the color had dimmed to a shade of pink.

"How can you do that!" James exclaimed, gently grabbing the pink hair with his fingers.

Ophelia blushed to red, and her hair turned even pinker. "I'm a metamorphagus, I was born with it."

"A metamorphagus?" James marveled. "That's brilliant, Philly. Why hadn't you told us?"

"Sirius knows," she said and brushed his hand off her now normal dark hair. "It wasn't of much importance, James."

"I'm sorry," said James suddenly. He liked at her, genuinely. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable when I asked you to go out with me." Then, he blushed because it sounded so childish.

Ophelia liked that he apologized. She also liked that he blushed at her.

"Your now forgiven," Ophelia lightly said. "Don't tell Sirius you asked me out though."

But, in the back of James's head, he wanted to ask her out again. Maybe when they were older, when Ophelia would like him like he just started to.

Lily had become forgotten as a love interest for the time being in third year. There was no bad blood between she and Ophelia, as they always went to each other for help on homework.

Third year was an awkward year. For Ophelia it was. She'd found out that Remus was a werewolf, though through symptoms. It was saddening, because a clever and smart man like Remus didn't deserve suck bad luck.

She also saw her little brother get sorted I to Syltherin. She made numerous attempts to speak with him, but they all ended with Regulus saying that his  mother wouldn't like it if he was speaking to her.

No matter what, Ophelia loved the little brat. She wanted to protect the boy, because he was kind in the middle. Yes, there was the indifferent feelings he had to Sirius, but even Regulus loved Ophelia, as she was innocent and he knew this.

The terms the Black family use in the house were oddly crude, which was why he used it barley.

Third year Sirius suggested them becoming unregistered animagi. Ophelia down-right objected the idea because it was too complicated and dangerous. James had encouraged it though.

He wanted Ophelia to be in the plan so much that he even made a poster about the reasons of becoming Animagi. Remus encouraged the idea of James making the poster for Ophelia, as the attempt would make her swoon--and it did.

So third year was the year of secrets. Her Hufflepuff friend, Amelia Dean, and she had gone through a split--not talking for the months.

It was in these times that Ophelia spent her time with James and Sirius more than ever. They would research the ways to turn to animals.

It was in those study's that she liked to see James chew at his thumbs while reading. She would tell him to stop, as he could draw blood if he was too focused.

"Habit," James sheepishly said and pushed his glasses up. (He tended to lose them a lot, because when they first meet he did lose them...)

She liked that habit. She liked his glasses. She liked the way he cared so deep for Remus.

At the end of third year, it was Sirius who pointed out she liked James.

She tried to deny it, but no use. She did like James Potter. Sirius even encouraged this, because it would mean his two best friends would be happy--she would be happy.


	10. i-rrr-land!

 

 ****After putting the water away, the tent that they set up was up and ready. Harry seemed shocked because, he thought that there would be more tents that Mr. Weasley would set up for them. He was more bewildered to see Hermione, Darcy, and Ron run inside.

The tent was charmed. It seemed to be ten times the size of the actual tent. Fred and George were lounging their feet on the table, their faces broad with a smile.

"Ah, you took quite soem while," said Mr. Weasley.

"Met a few people," replied Ron.

"Feet--off the table, please!" said Mr. Weasley.

"Feet off the table, sir," they said in unison.

Darcy noticed the starstruck look on Harry's face. Her hand waved in front of his face.

"I love magic," he said dreamily looking around the tent.

Already, Darcy lost the two beds when Ginny and Hermione ran to the separate room. It was as cute space, with one bunk bed. It had twin quilt blankets and puffy pillows.

"Oh girls," Mr. Weasley stumped when he realized that there was only one bunk in the small room. "Ginny would you mind--?"

" _Dad_!" Ginny quietly hissed, already knowing where this was going.

The situation wasn't that big, so Darcy said, "It's fine, Mr. Weasley. I'll take the couch."

"No, no!" he said shrilly. "You know what? I'll take the couch. You can sleep in the room next...right here with Harry and Ron-- _if_  that is alright with you!"

Darcy hesitantly nodded, her eyes wandering back to the couch. It wasn't a bad couch, lumpy...but not bad. Compared to the twin bed at the corner of the next room, though, Darcy nodded in acceptance.

Ron grumbled, his cheeks tinted a little red. "Another sleepover--yay!" he said in mock enthusiasm.

Harry caught the words and narrowed his eyes between his two friends. "Another?" he questioned, his stomach feeling empty.

"Oh, Ron slept over at my hut a few weeks back when I was sick," Darcy answered, unpacking her luggage. She laid out a sweatshirt, it's block letters spelling out "Ireland, since 1655."

Ron gasped at her green jacket when he entered the small room. He had just been scolded at for eating, and held a muffin in his hand. "You too?" he said, also laying out his red and black Bulgarian scarf. "I demand you to burn that!"

Clutching the precious jacket, Darcy glared at Ron. "I demand  _you_  to burn that rubbish!" she chasted, pulling her hoodie on and the same windbreaker on. "You two are the only people going for Bulgaria in your family."

"Ophelia's not going for Ireland!" Ron said rather smugly.

"That's because Africa didn't make it this year, you doof," she replied, looking over at Harry who was confused. "Oh, Bulgaria beat Africa by a mere ten points! Outrageous, Ophelia was!"

"I don't really care who wins," said Harry, who was shurgging off his boots for a pair of sneakers. "I've not got a clue what the world teams are--just hope the seeker doesn't get the snitch for another few days..."

"But then we'd miss the train to Hoogwarts," Darcy pointed out, her smile evident when the two boys tolled her eyes. "Also, I wish I had Charlie and Bill as roomy's. They were quite hilarious."

"Yeah, you even thought Charlie's  _horrid_  dragon pun was funny," Ron snorted, walking out of the tent with Harry and Darcy following. "Honestly, Darce, you've got to get a better sense of humor."

"Hermione thought it was funny!"

"What was the joke?" Harry said and curiously peeked at Darcy when she sat on the couch.

"A loud of  _bull_ ," Ron laughed. "'Are you drag-an your feet again, Ron?', he said! Pathetically--"

"We've just Apparated, father!" Percy said loudly as he came into the tent. He was then followed by Charlie and Bill.

"What was pathetic, Ron?" said Charlie, clearly oblivious to what they were talking about.

"Your puns," Ron grumbled, taking another muffin into his mouth.

Harry had noticed that Darcy's shoes were on the wrong way. She seemed really interested in the laces, contemplating if she actually knew how to ties them.

"You've got them on the wrong feet," Harry pointed out, sitting on the floor near her feet.

"Oh!" Darcy said. She was embarrassed, because she'd actually didn't think there was anything wrong with her sneakers. Her cheeks brightened and she hastily pulled them off. "I thought there was something wrong."

It was a quite dumb move, since shoes were basics of a toddler. Maybe it was the roaring thoughts in her head again, but Harry wouldn't know. When Darcy was going to putting her shoes on, Mr. Weasley's voice rang.

"We've got to go!" he said, bustling Ron from the kitchen. "Times gone by fast!"

. . .

"Look!" Fred and George yelled, their head to toe clad in green hats and they were tugging on Darcy like t young children as they pointed up to the dozen players in the field.

"I know!" screamed Darcy just as excited as the wizards in the arena. She too was giddily jumping with them.

Every goal was made expertly by Bulgaria, but Ireland was behind twenty points. Ron was booing the Irish as they scored another ten, and then cheering when Bulgaria S hired ten again. It was a screaming march between Ron and Darcy as they both bet each other five galleons that their teams would win.

At the end, Fred and George bet a hundred galleons that Irish would undoubtedly win, with or without the snitch being caught by Bulgaria as they were now dreadfully behind

And they were right! Darcy screamed and jumped, her hands finding Harry's as she did her little dance.

Harry went along with the rambunctious and rather funny girl. He did the wave with their hands and even hugged her happily as she was crying tears of joy.

"Thank you so much, Mr. Weasley!" Darcy shouted over, her eyes cleared.

"No problem, Darce!" He shouted back, also celebrating the Irish victory.

The entire arena had started chanting "Ireland", but was more of rolling the R. Darcy was following this chant as well as the tiger Weasleys and Hermione.

"I-RRRRRR-LAND!" They'd all scream and Ron would pout at Harry for laughing along.

. . .

Harry felt a little jolt in his chest when Darcy threw herself on Ron, ruffling his hair as she laughed. Her eyes crinkled, something that Sirius' eyes would do. Darcy's hair waved down in short dark tousled curls, a look that came from her father, and her skin was much more tanner. Harry liked how her skin glowed with happiness.

He just didn't want to know why he felt like he was angry.

Darcy spotted the quiet boy on the couch, staring intently at the floor, picking at his nails. Her foot tapped his leg after she jumped on the ledge of the couch. 

He looked up, his mesmerizing green eyes catch hers.

"Sing with us," laughed Darcy, her hand out. She held tight to the pole around as he took it and was lifted to the loft right next to the couch.

"Oh, Ronnny," sang Darcy, her voice carrying out like an angels, "Oh, you must be so love, you dovey."

"Oh Viktor," Fred and George choursed, "I love you--"

"When we're apart, my heart beats only for youuu," they all, except Ron, sang with uneven tones. Harry and DArcy laughed at each other, their hands brushing away as they were together for the duration of the song.

When Darcy was about to eat a good ol' apple from the kitche, Mr. Weasley had bustled into the tent. She hadn't realized he left, but he looked scared.

"We have to go," he wheezed, grabbing hold of Ginny. "The Irish weren't celebrating, after all."

**published november 18th, 2016**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: So i just saw fantastic beasts and can we just--omfg. it was so good. like. so good. ezra was so beautiful, hes such a good actor--and omfg eddie i love him smmm.
> 
> No ophelia flashback today! I'm finally on break [LEGIT SO HAPPY]. But, THANKS TO ALL MY READERS!! Let me know if you want the next chapter dedicated to any of yall...because I love you. Even though i don't know you, i still do.
> 
> Enjoy reading!!


	11. his mark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: short chapter. no ophelia flashback.

****People swarmed everywhere around sight. Every turn was a slap to the chest, evey backstep would result in her trip. The ground met Darcy's hands, and she hissed as the pain shot through her wrist and up her shoulder.

Her back was lying on the ground, and she found herself hacking as wizards stepped over her chest. The air around her was suddenly to hard to catch, like she forgot. Slowly, the people were disappearing from sight, gone.

Darcy was far away from any other people. No person was in sight, not even Harry, whom they were separated from.

The grounds was burning, and all tents were burned to the ground.

Darcy's eyes tried to search for any sign of life, but they found her instead. It was no welcome, the ministry of magic had stunned her to the ground, and bounded her hands behind her back. She saw her feet lift from the ground, her shadow darkly levitated from the ground. The ministry was yelling, hissing at her like she was scum and Darcy could not defend herself.

"Should've known it was a Black!" one of the Aurors said, their tones thick with disgust. "Sirius Black must've been among them!"

No words were able to form a retort as they spoke badly of her father.

"Mr. Crouch!" Someone yelled, though she could not see them. "We've caught one!"

People shuffled her body in front of a man with a very large top hat.

"Whom might this young lady be," he said calmly. His wand lifted up in front of Darcy's face and a light brung from it.

"It's Black's daughter," a man responded almost eagerly. "He must've been among those death eaters!"

Just when Crouch was about to speak again, there was a rustle from behind them.

Darcy couldn't see what was happening, but she struck by the dark mark in the sky. Her eyes tried to scan everything, her heart pounding with the fear that the death eaters would be back.

" _Stupefy_!" The ministry people shouted. Then, came the voice of Mr. Weasley.

"That's my son!" He shouted distantly. He wasn't near Darcy. "Ron, Harry, Hermione--are you okay?"

"We came back for Harry and Darcy!" Ron said.

" Which one of you did it!"

"Crouch, you can't possibly think--"

"You've been discovered at the scene of the crime!"

"Is that Darcy?" Hermione said, her voice peaked with fear. " _Omygod_ \--did they--?"

" _Renervate_ ," Mr. Weasley said, his face now above her. 

Darcy let a gasp out of relief, her eyes stinging with tears she couldn;t stop. Her head whipped around to see Harry, Ron, and Hermione surrounded by the ministry people. Her face flushed with anger as she saw the blonde man who stunned her.

"Why've you stunned me!" Darcy hissed, quickly standing up. "I've got nothing to do with that mark! I don't even have my wand!"

"Barty, they are only kids!" Mr. Weasley defended.

"What crime?" Harry said, more authoritvely. He looked up, and a look of pain crossed his face.

"It's his mark, Harry," Hermione whispered.

Darcy kept staring at everyone arguing. Her hand balled into a fist as she stared up at the sky. It had the skull, and a snake coming out of its deadly mouth. Her gaze returned back to Harry, who was uncomfortable under the presence of the mark.

. . .

"I think Ron and Hermione are aware your scare is hurting," snipped Darcy, when they got back into the bunk. Ron was off, talking about the events that happened merely thirty minutes ago.

Trying his best not to look at the girl, Harry tugged the sheets of his bed off and jumped onto the bed. "If they ask, they ask."

"You should tell Sirius," Darcy said softly, pullin herself under the covers of her single bed.

"Wouldn't want to worry him more. You should tell him that you were stupified."

Darcy glared at him. "Don't be snarky, Harry. It's not a coincidence that your scar started hurting with You-Know-Who's mark."

"Can we just leave it?" Harry said, irritated that Darcy was so focused in him. "Darcy, you don't have to worry for me either."

Taken aback, Darcy pursed her lips. "Then who will?"

"The Weasley's," Harry said simply. "Hermione."

"Yeah, but they can't worry about you when you haven't told them," she said, her heart clenching with hurt. She shouldn't have expected so much, she'd met the boy last year, as Harry knew the Weasley's much longer. Darcy thought that since they both deeply cared for Sirius, it would make up for a close friendship.

Ron came in, passing Harry a bar and Darcy a bottle of water. "What've you guys been talking about?" he said.

"Nothing," the two chorused, and turned away from each other.

 

 

 

 

 


	12. hogwash

Ophelia hugged the living life out of Darcy when the group got back from the port key.

"Jesus," her aunt squeaked, pushing back Darcy's hair from her face. "They stunned you! I will have a  _major_  talk with Crouch--"

"Already have, Ophelia," chimed in Mr. Weasley. "All last night when the kids were sleeping, I caught up with him--gave him an earful, that's right!"

Ophelia thanked Mr. Weasley, her face still engraved with the worried lines on her mouth. "I don't think I ever want to let you out of my sight again," she said, holding Darcy by the elbows.

Darcy widened her eyes. "Oh, please,  _don't_!" she said, shaking her head violently.

"Why would they stun you!" screeched Ophelia, her face contorted with fury. "It's--it's not proper, you're--you both are just kids!"

"I dunno why," mumbles Darcy, her cheeks burning at the affection Ophelia gave her and Harry when he passed by. He was shocked when his body was pulled away from his destination, which was the couch. Ophelia hugged the two harder, then let go.

Ophelia began showing affection to Harry not long ago. Right after releasing Sirius, Ophelia saved Harry and Hermione by Remus when he turned to a werewolf. Her animagus form was a fox, and it was jumping all around the wolf who seemed to take a keen interest in the jumpy animal. 

"I love you guys," said Ophelia, her hands holding tight onto both of the kids. "Times are getting dark, Harry. It's been a short while, but I've held you both in my arms when you were babies..."

"Really?" Harry asked, his eyes meeting Ophelia. He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.

"Sirius--oh it was adorable--took Darcy over to England a few evenings before your parents moved to Godric's Hollow," Ophelia said, though she trailed off at the look of discomfort between the two fourteen year olds.

"Haven't you got to she Remus, Ophelia?" asked Mrs. Weasley, who was starting to cook for dinner. "To help him?"

Harry perked at the mention of the ex-Defense teacher. "You've gone to see Remus?" Harry asked eagerly. If Ophelia was going to see Remus, it could mean that Sirius would be around. The few letter that Harry exchanged with Sirius always mentioned Ophelia taking care of the two men.

"Oh!" said Ophelia who was staring at the sun setting. "I have to go again, Darce. Keep safe, alright? You too, Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Next time I'll be seeing you guys is at Hogwarts!" Then, she disapparated from the front door.

"You reckon she's in love?" Ginny asked Hermione from behind Darcy. "She always loves to talk about Professor Lupin."

"'Poor Remmy'," Darcy quoted, her smile turned upwards into a dry smile, "'he needs me, Darce, I've got to help him!'"

Hermione lightly punched Darcy's shoulder, giving her a disapproving glare. Yes, it was very apparent that Ophelia had been spending much more time with Remus and Sirius than she was with Darcy and Harry. Harry didn't mind it, he got letters from Sirius and that seemed good enough. On the other hand, Darcy had known Ophelia all her life, growing up thinking that somehow, Ophelia was her mother (even though Ophelia said otherwise). 

"Let her have her privacy," said Hermione and Ron snorted. "She's been separated from her brother for fourteen years, and hasn't had any contacts with Remus either. She deserves this."

Something told Darcy that Hermione knew something she didn't (oh, and she  _did!_ ).

"Come eat for dinner, kids!" Mrs. Weasley shouted. Footsteps were heard from up above, and the four eldest Weasley's were ready at the table, leaving Ginny, Darcy, Hermione, Ron, and Harry outed by the table because it was full. 

"We'll eat in the living room, mum," Ginny suggested, her voice hopeful.

There was an apprehensive look on Mrs. Weasley's face. After a while, she finally agreed to let the five eat in the living area. 

"Can't wait to go to Hogwarts," Darcy sarcastically admitted, stuffing food into her mouth. 

Ginny gave a sympathetic nod. "Who knows? Maybe we'll sneak you to the Gryffindor common rooms."

"That would be a much better sight than the dungeons," said Darcy, her eyes loomed with darkness, though it was more personal. "They've got funky green lights down there. Really sets a depressing mood."

"Yeah," said Ron, his face scrunched in unease. "I don't think I ever want to go back down there."

Darcy stared at Ron. "You've gone down there?"

Harry and Ron shared a wicked look. "I think it's fair to say that we were quite the rebels in second year," said Harry, who was smiling devilishly. "Went down there--saw Malfoy being all--"

"In  _second_ year?" Darcy said, her voice surprised. "What the hell were you doing down there?"

Ginny was rigid for a while, until Hermione said, "We were looking to see if Malfoy was the heir of Slytherin."

Darcy snorted. Malfoy and his two goons were  _nothing_  special in her eyes. "Now why would Malfoy be suspicious enough to be the heir of Slytherin."

"His family has been in Slytherin for centuries," Ron added in. "So we assumed..."

"The Black's have been in Slytherin for centuries," Darcy pondered, which had nothing to do with the heir topic. Then, a dawning fact popped in her mind. "Oh," she said darkly, "I'm related to Malfoy."

Ginny squinted her eyes at Darcy. "How so?" she asked, her interests peaked.

"He's my cousin once removed," Darcy said, her voice flat. "Quite odd how it works, really. My father knew Malfoy's mother...so odd."

"It is, really," Hermione added. "I've got a few neighbors that have huge family parties. They're all friendly to each other."

Harry stared again at Darcy. She had her lips thin to a line, her eyes furrowed like she was thinking. 

"Some Slytherins are nice," said Darcy suddenly. "Like my room mates. They don't like to talk about the houses, they've even got Hufflepuff friends. I just...I don't understand why you Brits are so rude to each others houses."

"Long time feud, really," Ron said dismissively.

"Pukwudgie had feuds with Horned Serpent, but they got along fine. We rather liked each other very much."

"Pukwudgie?" Harry asked, "Isn't that Ron's owls's name?"

"Pigwideon," Ginny corrected.

"We've got four houses in Ilvermorny," said Darcy, her smile evident to the four others. "Horned Serpent for the mind, Wampus for the body, Thunderbird for the soul, and Pukwudgie for the heart. That was my house."

"How'd they sort?" Ginny said, her eyes fixiated on Darcy. "Did they have a hat?"

"Blimey, won't America just copy everything," Ron inserted, rolling his eyes.

"Actually, we don't have a hat. We've got statues of the animals that represent the houses. When a sixth graders, or first years for you. I remember the Horned Serpent and the Pukwudgie choosing me, I was very excited. I chose Pukwudgie. You know, it's very common for two statues or three to turn,  _but all four_ , that was a true student. It only comes once a century, and already one student has had all statues turn for her, Seraphina Picquery, the President of MACUSA in 1926..."

"What house she choose?" Harry asked, scotting onto the couch next to her. By now, Fred and George had tagged along.

"She chose Horned Serpent," said Darcy, and she was delighted to see the shocked faces of them all--except Hermione.

"Serpent?" Ron said, "Sounds a lot like Slytherin."

"Well," Hermione drawled, "that's because the woman who made Ilvermorny and founded that house was a descendant of Slytherin."

"Bloody hell!" George gasped, picking at a piece of chocolates in his hands. "You mean to tell me that a Slytherin built your school?"

"What rubbish!" Fred laughed, his voice kind with amusement.

"Hey!" Darcy said, her smile teasing. "A lot of people would argue that Ilvermorny was the best wizarding school."

"Beg to differ!" Ron and Ginny shouted. "Hogwarts is the original!" Ron added.

"You mean Hogwash?" Darcy countered, her voice taunting the four Brits. "And to correct you, Ron, Uagadoo was actually the first known wizarding school. It's even bigger than Hogwash."

"Okay, okay," Hermione warned, trying to calm them all. "Darcy, you started this. Now you've got them confused about the global wizarding worlds!"

"It's not my fault their so dimwitted--except you Ginny, I already told you about the different schools."

"Ron, Fred, George!" Mr. Weasley yelled. "What's got you all riled up over there?"

"Darcy's made fun of Hogwarts!" Fred shouted. "She's betrayed our trust!"

"Oh no!" Ginny mockingly gasped. "Who's the one who burned off her hair!"

That shut them up quickly, but they shared a goofy grin at Darcy. "This isn't the end," George warned.

"I still think Hogwarts is the best school," Harry piped in, looking at Darcy shot her eyebrows up.

"You've only ever been to Hogwarts!"

"I still like Hogwash," Harry laughed.

 


	13. king's cross

"So how was Remus?" Darcy asked the morning of going to King's Cross. She pushed her heavy cart, trying her hardest not to run into the no-Majs that were constantly swarming the place.

Ophelia's lips turned downward. It was three days after since she left to take care of him. "He's not doing well. I don't have the area of space to release him with me without humans around."

"Oh," said Darcy, "does that mean he's been scratching himself more often?"

A light sniffle came from Ophelia's mouth. Darcy had no idea that it would strike such a feeling so she was quite the rest of the walk to Platform 9 3/4. 

"Philly," said Darcy when they came across a brick wall that only said Platform nine, "Where's nine and three quarters?"

The Weasley's plus Harry and Hermione had caught up with the two.

"You just go through the wall right here," sadi Ron who was poijting at the same wall she was in front of.

Darcy threw a look of disbelief at the Weasley's and Ophelia. "For real?"

Ron, Harry, and Hermione looked around the place, chatting unconspiciously as they pushed their carts through the brick wall and disappeared. Darcy's eyes widened when Ophelia started pushing her through with Ginny and the twins. 

"But--whoa!" Darcy squealed, her eyes scanning the very different terrain of the train station. 

"Amazing, isn't it?" said Ginny, holding tight to her elbow. "Everyone's got the same reaction."

"It really is!" Darcy replied, staring amazingly around. 

They walked several more steps. Darcy took notice of the familiar faces, and the odd glances that were given back to her--or most likely Ophelia.

"The trains boarding, loves!" Mrs. Weasley said, shoving off Ginny and Darcy forward to the nearest train door. "I'll go get the man to put your luggage away--oh Ginny! Ron's got Pig, right?"

"Right, mum," Ginny agreed, pulling herself onto the train

"Fred, George, take good care. Don't do anything stupid."

"Yes, mum," they said, following Ginny.

Ophelia turned over to Darcy, brushing off her shoulders. "I'll see you at Hogwarts, alright?"

Darcy nodded, glancing around her more feverishly. "Alright."

"I'm just going off to see Remus at the Three Broomstick, so I won't be there to greet you."

This time, Darcy really got the feeling that there was something going on between Ophelia and Remus. She boarded the train, trying her hardest not to run into to anyone.

Every compartment seemed to be full, except for a boy that she caught that was sitting by himself. Her eyes narrowed, realizing that this was Neville Longbottom. Quickly, Darcy opened the compartment door and pushed herself inside. 

Neville looked shocked, with his cactus right by his feet.

"Hello!" said Darcy, "Did I scare you?"

"Oh, uhm," he stuttered, "no..."

Taking a seat across from him, Darcy stared intently at him. He was very frightened, maybe because she had Slytherin robes? 

"Well, I'm Darcy--"

"Darcy Black," finished Neville, eyeing her suspiciously. "My gran talks about your aunt a lot..."

Raising an eyebrow, Darcy says, "She does?"

"She's quite interested in the Black family, really," said Neville, though it was a meek attempt to make conversation. "Always said that Sirius wouldn't kill muggles, because he married one..." His cheeks flushed again.

"Oh well," Darcy said stiffly, "I don't believe he was ever with You-Know-Who. Like your gran said, my father married a muggle...Hey, what is that?"

Neville glanced over at his plant, that looked like a cactus but had boils instead. "Mimbulus Mimbletonia," he said, "gran got it for me. It's very rare."

It wasn't very interesting, Darcy only tried to make conversation with him.

"Hey, Neville," she said lightly. Darcy thought that this moment may be right... "I know what happened to your parents, and I just wanted to say I'm so sorry..."

Neville's face became a shade redder, and he began to scoot farhter way. "I appreciate your kind words, Darcy, but I don't want to-to t-talk about it."

DArcy stood, already knowing that Neville didn't like her very much, especially since she was Slytherin. "Oh, I understand," she hastily said, carrying her bag. "I just wanted to come in...and say that..." She opened the latch for the door and stepped out.

"And, Darcy!" Neville called out. "Please don't tell anyone. Please."

Darcy caught the look of sadness that overcame his chubby face. "I'm sorry I brought it up, Neville. I won't tell a soul."

. . .

It was when Darcy saw the woman giving out candy, and Ron was there trying to pick a few candies that she knew she was in the safe. Making her way behind the lady, she finally caught Ron's attention.

"Where've you been," he said, giving the lady a few galleons. "Mione's been worried that you were caught by the other Slytherins."

Darcy shrugged and said, "Got caught up." She wiggled her way through the lady, excusing her intrsion and finally got into the cart with Harry and Hermione. She took her seat by Harry, who was writing a letter.

"For Sirius?" Darcy asked, pulling on her Slytherin robes. "I suppose you guys found out," she said to Hermione and Ron.

"Sure did," drawled Ron. He popped a few pieces of candy into his mouth. 

"By the way," said Hermione, "how was Ophelia and Remus? They're doing okay?"

Darcy nodded and pulled her feet closer to her chest. "Doing just fine," she mumbled, trying her hardest to keep wake. She didn't realize how tired she was. 

. . . .

1974

From here on Fourth

_________________

This was the year that changed for Ophelia and Sirius Black. It was the first year that they were planning to stay at the Potter's house after school ended. Ophelia was much more happy, and she was more confident when mentioned about her family.

"Blood traitors," Ophelia mocked in her most shrill voice at the Great Hall during Study Hall. "That's what you two are! Bastard and traitor, oh I should've known!"

James cracked up, his eyes watering as Ophelia's hair into a white blonde like Walburga's. "I love when you do that thing with your hair," he said, picking up a strand of hair. He'd been doing that as a habit, and Ophelia didn't mind.

Ophelia focused on changing her hair to a light brown. "I know you do, princess," she teased back, whacking his hand from her hair. "Sadly, I'm a prize way outta your league."

James mockingly gave her a look of offence. "But I'm a princess!" he defended. "I think I'm in your league!"

"I wouldn't go around saying you're a princess, James," warned Sirius from across the table. 

Ophelia shoved James' shoulder playfully, her hand brushing his. He looked alarmed, since Ophelia never really showed this much affection with him.

"How's Remus?" Ophelia asked, though she stayed silent when Professor McGonagall came by to check on the four.

Peter was the first to respond. "He's doing okay. Ms. Pomfrey said he'd be back tomorrow, if he wanted to."

Ophelia nodded and squeezed James hand from under the table.

Over the summer, James had become increasingly involved in Ophelia's family. He's asked numerous times how she was doing through letters. Even sent her some gifts, like cookies that his mother had made. Sirius tended to ask why she was writing so much, and her excuse was: "I'm writing a manuscript for the ministry."

"What're you writing about?" he asked, quietly sneaking into her small room.

"Muggle-borns, half-bloods, and pure-bloods. Experiences from a girl in a pure-blood family."

Sirius peaked closer at the paper she writing on. It wasn't a story, but a letter. "Oh really?"

Covering her letter, Ophelia glared at him, her hair tainted a slight pink. "Go back outside, Sirius. I'm sure the little muggle kids are bored out of their minds when your not around."

Sighing, Sirius jumped onto her bed. "So you've been writing James," he taunted, rolling around and meeting her surprised yet annoyed face. "He's been sending me letters too--can't stop talking about your 'beautiful, precious hair'."

At that comment, Ophelia's cheeks flushed red. "He said that?"

"Yeah. Plus, 'I'm worried about her'...blah, blah, blah, 'you guys should come over next summer'."

"Oh really?" Ophelia said, dropping the feather she had. "I'd love to go to the Potters..."

. .

A few weeks spent into fourth year, and Ophelia and James were already more suspicious as they were when they first sat down at the Great Hall. Ophelia found it hard to not stay close to James, and he found it lovely to touch her hair. 

"I can't wait for summer," whispered Ophelia, as she opened a book for animagus'. She snuggled closer to James, pulling a part of her blanket over to him. It was getting chilly by the Black Lake, a place they liked to spend their time alone.

James laid his back on a trunk of tress, his arm wrapped around Ophelia. "Mum and dad are curious to meet Sirius and you," he mumbled into her hair. He took notice that it began to tint with pink. It was a clear sign that she was a little flustered. 

"I'm sure they'll love you," said James. "I can't wait to take you away from Walburga and Orion."

Ophelia glances up, her eyes kind and curious. She smiled shyly, and placed a hand on his hair. "I wouldn't mind, really. Maybe I'll publish a book about my family."

"Yeah, Sirius told me about that. Said you were trying to cover up writing a letter to me."

"You two really are like brothers!" Ophelia said. "Always telling each other everything."

"Aren't Hufflepuff's like that, though?" James counter-argued. "Loyal and honest!"

Ophelia elbowed James and straightened herself. "Everyone's loyal to something, James," she pointed out. "Like Sirius and I, we're loyal to you and Remus and Peter."


	14. mad eye moody

 

Among the Slytherins, Darcy felt like a new student. She had never seen the sorting hat sort in public, and didn't realize how the place seemed to be much gloomier. Her sleepy eyes trailed a first year boy walking towards her table, sitting right across from the year five prefect girl. 

Most people in the entire Great Hall noticed how alone Darcy was with the chatty Slytherins. Harry, of them all, saw how her eyes were lazily gazing at the sorting hat with such distrust. He wondered why the hat actually did sort her in Slytherin. Darcy was a kind girl, very loyal like her aunt. She stood her ground, dealt with unkind words last years because of her muteness.

It struck Harry that Darcy hadn't spoken a single word since they reached Hogwarts. Even in their departure to sit at the different tables, Darcy walked away with a more indifferent look. He wondered if maybe Darcy didn't want the bulk of Hogwarts to know she can now speak. She even wore a scarf to hide the very same jewel that equalizes her vocals.

"Well, now that we're all settled in and sorted," Albus Dumbledore said. "I'd like to make an announcement." When the Great Hall situated itself, he continued. "This castle will not only be your home this year, but home to some very special guests. So Hogwarts has been chosen to host the Triwizard Tournament!"

Darcy's eyes shot up from picking her food (she noticed that Ophelia was not there yet), and Harry diverted his attention away from her. Albus was waiting again for the curious whispering to stop.

"For those of you who do not know, the Triwizard Tournament brings three schools together for a series of magical contests. From each school..."

And from there on, Darcy was no longer interested. She saw Harry's face, flushed from eating, focusing on Dumbledore. He thought he was being inconspicuous while staring, but she felt his intense eyes on her.

Her bored eyes then followed the Slytherin's as they stood. Everyone was objecting the age limit being seventeen. Her mouth pursed, thinking about the undesirably dangerous tasks that would await. Darcy agreed with the rules.

When the Hall was excused for the evening, Darcy followed her house mates down towards the dungeons. She felt exceptionally murderous, wanting to stab every sniggering remark thrown at muggle-borns. She'd been hearing the supposed insults more and more often within the common rooms.

The next morning, Darcy settled herself in her bed to get up, ignoring Viola Richmond, the Carrow twins, and Gemma Fawley and Tracey Davis. None of them were particularly bad. Out of all of them, Tracey was more quite than the others when it came to in-dorm speaking.

Except, it seemed this year that Darcy noticed how much her dorm mates noticed her presence.

"Hey, Darcy?" said Gemma Fawley. She had extremely curly hair, with the complementary dark and smooth skin. She was short, and the color of the Slytherin robes seemed less compatible with her. From first sight, Gemma's kind face could've mistaken anyone that she was Hufflepuff.

At first, Darcy didn't even reply. She thought that it was hre mind playing tricks, that her loneliness in the house was getting to her.

"Darcy?" Gemma asked again, and this time Darcy whipped around to see the girl fully from her bed.

Not sure if she should speak, Darcy jumped off her bed and gave a "hymn" in response.

"I," Gemma started, "I was wondering if you wanted to grab a bite back down to the Great Hall?" Her voice was suggestive and kind, something that was new.

Darcy looked around the dorm, seeing that Tracey and Richmond were standing up as well to leave the dorm. Her stomach grumbled a little. It would be a lie that Darcy didn't want to grab more food, so she agreed and they made their way to the Great Hall.

As always, Darcy didn't participate in their chatting of the Triwizaard tournament. She sat with the group, and took her plate of extra bread and tea. She munched down as much as she could. She just wanted to go to classes, away from these people.

"You should take it slow, there," said Tracey, her eyes widening at the hungry girl.

"Oh, sorry," mumbled Darcy, but she still stuffed a spoonful of oatmeal in her mouth. Her eyes caught the surprised Slytherin girls. Nonchalantly, Darcy said louder, "Yes, I can talk now. I  _don't_ want to say how, so please, leave it be."

After eating in silence again, Darcy took the last three biscuits from the bowl, and stood up from her seat. "Thank you for inviting me, though," she said as she walked by Tracey. "It was very kind."

. . .

"Hello Hermione," said Darcy, taking her seat next to her in Defense Against the Dark Arts. "Did you save this seat for me?"

She rolled her eyes. "I wonder what we're learning today. I would've thought Ophelia would be the one to take the class this year," she said.

Shrugging off her robes, Darcy pulled out the Defense book for the year. "She's still doing no-maj history."

Hermione sighed, leaning forward in her chair. "Ron's been very excited to know what Moddy'll be teaching us."

"Really?" inquired Darcy. "Isn't Moody an ex-auror?"

"Yeah, but, Moody!" Ron said from across the two, "Been waiting the entire  _week_  to have this class. Bloody--"

"I was wondering why I couldn't find you all before class," said Darcy and looked behond her. The Slytherin were all pushed to the back, it looked like, except for her. "Looks like the--"

The doors to the class were opened heavily, revealing a very stuby and  _ugly_  man. Darcy jolted a little, turning her body back to the man with the wooden foot.

"You can put those away," he growled, limping to the very front of the class.

The class returned the books back. Ron was excited, jumping around in his seat.

"You all are very behind," said Moody, "on curses. Something that a certain wizard will try to cast on you. They come in many strengths and forms. Though, the Ministry thinks you all are too young, but Dumbledore thinks very highly of you all. He reckons you can cope, and I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. So, do any of you know which curses are more heavily punished?"

Several hands were raised tentatively. Among them was Ron and Hermione. Moody pointed at Ron. Darcy watched Harry, who was diligently staring ahead

"My dad told me about one," Ron carefully said. "Was it the Imperius Curse, or something?"

"Yes," Moody said, "you're father would know quite a lot about that one, eh? Gave a whole scandal in the Ministry..."

He got up heavily, and from his desk he pulled out a jar. Inside the jar were three spiders. Darcy cringed, not liking the sight of them.

" _Imperio_!" Moody muttered.

One of the spiders leapt from Moody's hand on a fine thread of silk and began to swing around as though in a trapeze. It stretched its legs rigisly, did a back flip, and then landed on a desk.

Everyone was laughing, except for Moody.

"Think it's funny?" he growled. "You'd like it, would you, if I did it to you?"

The laughter died away almost instantly. Darcy began to get chills on her arm, not liking what was about to happen.

"You better avoid being hit--CONSTANT VIGILANCE is needed," he cried out. The spider was laid back down on his desk. "Now, anyone else know other illegal curses?"

. . .

"That was quite crude," shuddered Darcy when she joined Ron and Harry with Hermione down the stairs.

"Crudely awesome," said Ron. "Oh, but, sorry, Harry. I just meant..."

"Yeah, I know, it was pretty eye-opening," Harry mumbled.

"Hurry up," Hermione said from behind the three.

Darcy spotted Neville from the side of the passage. He was staring at the stone wall, and he looked so disgruntled and horrified about the Cruciatus Curse.

Hermione was the first to comfortantly place a hand on his shoulder. "Neville?"

He shot his head towards her. "Oh hi!" he said in a high voice. "Some lesson--ah, really starving though..."

Darcy stepped forward and placed her hand on his elbow. She looked him straight in the eye. "Neville, really...are you okay? It was a  _cruel_ lesson..." she said with a knowing look.

"No, I'm good," he said in a more ethusiatic voice.

"Longbottom," said the voice of Moody. He was coming down the stairs, limping still with that squeaky wooden leg of his. "Come on up, we can have a cup a tea..."

Neville looked even more firghtened, staring at the four with a pleading look to take him away.

To Harry, Moody said kindly, "It seems harsh, Potter, but you've got to know...C'mon Longbottomm, I've got some books for you..."

"Oh wait," said Darcy when the other three would not save him, "Neville, weren't you hungry? You can come to the Great Hall with us..."

Moody waved it off. "I've got some of my own food--way better than what those elves cook!" he said, pulling away Neville.

When the pair disappeared from view, Ron turned to the three. "What was that about?"

Darcy stayed quite about the Unforgivable curses. It was  _harsh_ , and it shouldn't have been done in a harsh manner either. She recalled the horrid look Neville had. She pitied him, but soon realized that wasn't what he should get...His parents were great, house her mom...


	15. foreign schools pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: my writing sucks. I apologize sm, but Harry's getting some rosy cheeks lolol. Also, I'm making a Ophelia and James Potter story called, "Illegitimate". name may change....

****Darcy had heard the very passionate words that Hermione said about treating house elves during breakfast. Though, the elves did like to work, Darcy didn't say anything against the busy haired girl. Darcy watched for a while when Hermione exchange words with Fred and George, then her attention flew upwards to the owls that were coming in.

Among the several, one owl perched itself on Harry, which perked Darcy's interest. From across the table, she scooted closer. She couldn't read the letter, but after a while, Harry passed it to her. It surprised her, but she took it nontheless.

_Nice try, Harry,_

_I'm back in the country and well hidden. I want you to keep me posted on everything that's going on at Hogwarts. Don't use Hedwig, keep changing owls, and don't worry about me, just watch out for yourself. Remember what I said about_

_And if Darcy happens to be around, I'd like to say that I will personally escort Barty Crouch to a well-beating for stunning my daughter._

_Sirius._

Darcy smiled, handing the letter back to Harry.

. . .

Ophelia was among the few who were standing outside the castle. The Heads of Houses were ordering around their kids. Darcy departed the trio as she went towards the Slytherin line. Snape had no trouble lining up the first years in the front, all the way to the seventh years.

Darcy found her self shoved indirectly behind Malfoy, and she was no longer happy to see the Beaxbaton and Durmstrang students arrive. Though, from the very back of the fourth year line, Darcy spotted Tracey Davis standing by herself.

As Snape walked towards the front, Darcy sneaked out of line and took a spot in front of Tracey.

"Hi there," Darcy whispered, fixing her messy short hair. Snape had pointed out it was a rat's nest. He wasn't wrong.

Tracey smiled giddly. "Thank god, I was beginning to feel like an outcast," she said, clapping her hands together. "I'm really excited to the Beaxbatons girls. My mum went there!"

Darcy raised an eyebrow. "It's too bad the Triwizard Tournament only does European countries...I would've liked to see a few of my old friends..."

Pauline Johnson was the few students who actually liked to speak to Darcy. Of course, it was the past and they've only known each other for two years, it felt odd to just resume talking with the girl. Darcy made a side note to send a letter to the girl some time.

"Aha! Unless I'm very much mistaken, I believe the delegations for Beaxbatons is apporching!" Dumbledore yelled.

Darcy and Tracey's eyes swiveled upwards to where Dumbledore pointed. Indeed, there was a single moving spot that was beginning to look a lot like a dragon. Then, a few voices were givng out their own opinions.

The first three rows of students drew back, as the flying  _house_  began to draw near with impecable speed. Once it landed, Neville (Darcy did not know that the Gryffindors were in front of her) had stepped onto her shoe at the rough landing.

"So sorry, Darcy," he stuttered and straightened up. He gave her an apologetic look.

"No, it's fine, Neville," Darcy replied rather much flustered from the slight numbing pain of her foot.

A boy in pale blue robes had jumped from the carriaged, and he released a set of golden stairs. From the door, a black shoe the size of a children's shed was stepped out. Darcy's eyes widened as the full figure of the woman half-giant had revealed herself. She was very elegant, wearing a fur scarf and a silky black dress. She adorned many opals, and it impressed Darcy by how she could pull it off

"That's one  _big_ lady," a boy from the Gryffindor's line whispered in front of her.

The remark was soon forgotten because the rest of the Hogwarts students began clapping with anticipation. A few words were exchanged between the Headmaster and Beaxbatons Headmistress, until someone shouted that there was something coming out of the lake.

Darcy tried to peer over the fifth and fourth year Gryffindors, but soon gave up as she was no longer able to.

"Wow!" The Hogwarts students said in awe, and suddenly there was a very tall ship that sprung from the lake that Darcy could now see.

Tracey squealed just a little while after when the Durmstrang students hiked from the docks. Her hand tugged on Darcy's sleeves and Darcy had the nagging thought that Tracey was rather jumpy for a Slytherin.

"It's  _Krum_!" Tracey whispered into Darcy's ear. "It's the Bulgarian Seeker!"

Suddenly very intrigued, Darcy whipped her head towards the heavily coated students in red. They were all rather cozy, and Ron's fiery hair came and interrupted the view.

. . .

"Hi Harry," Darcy greeted the messy haired boy when he departed from Ron and Hermione. "Where you heading? To the owls?"

Harry glanced beside him and was awestruck to see Darcy sporting a Slytherin scarf. It seemed unlike her to show so much of her house colors. Harry pushed the thought aside, as he saw that Darcy was hiding the jewel around her neck.

"Uhm no, actually," Harry said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. He saw the glum look on her face and added hastily, "Would it be okay if I went with you?"

Darcy nodded , her eyes bright, and lifted up her neatly written letter. On the back it was said in quotes, "Dad", and Harry pointedly glanced at it in confusion.

"Sirius and I are testing out the whole father-daughter thing," Darcy said sheepishly. "It's kind of weird and suspicious to call him 'dad' in public, so we stick to letters."

"I really do wonder where he's staying," Harry said, reaching the end of the staircases. "He doesn't really focus on himself, does he? Always worries about us..."

They passed by Hedwig, who hooted rather glumly but to a tawny owl that was awaiting letters. Darcy placed a handful of food to the owl and gave it her letter.

"He does," she admitted, sitting on the bench next to Harry. "Sometimes I think Philly goes to help him, but she wouldn't tell me if she did."

Harry fumbled with his fingers for awhile, staring over at Darcy as she tried to coax the owl to leave. She really didn't look like Sirius, and it was odd to think that they were related. After all, Harry's father could've married Ophelia, given if Ophelia hadn't left her sixth year and left James Potter devastated in seventh year.

Harry's mind reflected back to the photographs that he had in his family album of Darcy's aunt and his father. The happiness that they had...it made Harry feel jealous. Harry couldn't have a normal " _teenage_ " life. He wasn't even normal by wizarding standards.

Darcy had finally gotten the owl to leave, and she turned to face Harry. He blushed, realizing that he had been staring,  _again_. 

"But," Darcy said and dusted off her scarf, "what about the tournament. I've heard that Fred and George were devastated to hear about the age limit."

Harry snicker and stood up from the feather covered bench he sat from. "Made an announcement last night that they would age themselves if they had to."

"Rather stupid," said Darcy as they both made their way down the stairs. "There's a reason why there's an age limit. What are ton-tongue toffees going to do in the tournament?"

As they reached the intersection of the middle of the castle, they bid themselves goodbye. Harry made his way up the Gryffindor stairs, glancing back to see Darcy trudging down the stairs to the dungeon.

He felt his cheeks warm, and he shook his head. Harry liked how independent Darcy was. He liked how here short hair complemented her height, making her seem so elegant. He also liked her voice. It was, figuratively, like angels whispering into his ears. 

The common room was quite, and Harry spent most of his time there, left to his own thoughts of Darcy Black. He actually pondered on how Sirius would take it if Harry ever married Darcy. Harry's cheeks flushed again at that thought. He was thinking too much into Darcy...bu, really, could he help it?

Her entire life is a mystery, one that Harry wants to know about. He adored Darcy's stubborn support to her previous American school, and was curious to go there himself...wondering which house he would be in. 

" _Hogwash_ ," Harry whispered to himself, repeating Darcy's insult to Hogwarts. Harry didn't take offense, because, as much as he loved Hogwarts, the name was rather displeasing and funny. 

**published november 23, 2016**


	16. alone

The next day, all Hogwarts students gathered around at dinner time and waited for the Goblet of Fire to choose its three champions. The hall was busy with whispered voices, all excited to know who was chosen. The Durmstrang students were stoic, conversing very quietly among their own, as did the Beaxbaton students.

Harry sat between Hermione and Ron, also joining in on the buzz of the champions. All Hogwarts houses were cheering for their own houses. Slytherin was hoping to get Denis De Fence as the champion, Cedric Diggory for Hufflepuff, Paxton O'winston for Ravenclaw, and Angelina Johnson for Gryffindor. (Fred and George were hellbent in Angelina, since their aging position backfire on them and gave the twins matching beards).

Harry had spotted Darcy's lone body at the entrance of the hall, her Slytherin scarf wrapped around her neck. It gave Harry an odd feeling when she wore the green scarf, oddly reminding him of Draco Malfoy. The girl soon spotted the trio and made her way there.

With a huge huff, a very large book in Darcy's arms, she sat a seat down from Hermione.

"I found the  _second_  volume!" Darcy excitedly whispered to Hermione, dragging Harry and Ron's to the two.

Darcy held out that giant book that could fit two hand widths. Hermione stared at the book in her hand in shock.

"You did?" Hernione said, reaching over to touch the thick leather binding.

Ron glared at the two with immense disapproval.

"The bloody goblet going to chose it champions," Ron said, "and you're obsessing over a book about--about  _Advanced Defense Against Curses_?"

Harry's eyebrows shot up, impressed. "Are you practicing to be an Auror?" He said, slipping down to the seat next to Darcy.

Darcy slipped him a sly grin. " _Maybe_ ," she said, shoving his shoulder with hers. "I was thinking about my curse, and I don't want anyone to experience that."

Harry peered over her shoulder and nodded. "That's very kind," he acknowledged. "So you outgrew the  _Reverse Curses_  book?"

Maybe for a split second, Darcy's mouth turned downwards, but she recovered it and nodded vigorously.

"Oh, yeah," she cleared her throat. "Still near and dear to my heart, though."

Harry wanted to say more, but the sound of the bell tolling had drawn everyone's attention to the headmasters that stood at the center of the hall. Dumbledore stood nearest to the Goblet of Fire.

"Now is the moment you have all been waiting for," said Dumbledore loudly, "the Champion selection." He waved his hand across the hall, the lights dimming as they were dimmed dramatically.

"Interesting," mumbled Darcy to Harry, whom was squirming around to get a better look.

The Goblet's blue fire was illuminating the entire hall. The shadows cast a gloomy glow around everyone's face. Dumbledore waits for the fire, his hand reached out as if...

The blue fire that once was ablaze on the goblet had turned a bright red. From it, a piece of parchment had flown into the hands of Dumbledore.

"The Durmstrang champion is," Dumbledore annouced, "VIKTOR KRUM!" 

The entire  _hall_  had erupted with cheers. Ron, from behind Harry and Darcy jumped up with excitement. Applause died down when Krum had shook Dumbledore's hand and disappeared to a chamber.

And so went the champion of Beaxbatons, Fleur Delacour. Some few girls of the academy had began crying, the boys were supportive though. Fleur as well followed through to the chamber.

And finally, it was the Hogwarts champion, Cedric Diggory. From the mass, it appeared that everyone was happy to see him stand from the Hufflepuff table. Harry applauded with the students, though Ron was very unhappy about the champion.

Darcy asked, "Is that the boy that you and Ginny were whispering about?" to Hermione.

Blushing, Hermione nodded and the topic was soon forgotten. Harry had spotted the teachers, Professor Sprout and Ophelia were hugging each other, and it appeared that Ophelia was crying. He guessed that she was happy to see a Hufflepuff have a highlight.

Though, the applauding soon stopped. The Goblet had began churning with erratic whips of sparks. Darcy winced, grabbing onto Harry's hand, though she meant to reach for Hermione. He glanced down at their interlocking hands, his face blushing red.

From the goblet, Dumbledore caught yet  _another_  parchment paper. He was silent as he read the paper, from which there was a long pause. Everyone stared at Dumbledore and he cleared his throat, saying--

" _Harry Potter._ "

The said person sat where he stood, aware that eveyr head in teh Greta Hall had turned to look at him. He was stunned. He was numband Darcy's supporting hand was no help. He was dreaming. He didn't hear correctly. Darcy's warm hand was not in his hand.

There was no applause. 

From the top table, Professor McGonagall and Ophelia had got to their feet, and went straight to Dumbledore. They whispered to him, to which he bent his ear down to hear.

Harry turned to see Hermione, Ron and Darcy; beyond them, he saw all of Gryffindor staring at him, open-mouthed.

"I didn't put my name in there," Harry said blankly. "You know I didn't. I was with Darcy all night."

They stared just as blankly back, Darcy's hand frozen in his.

"Harry Potter!" Dumbledore called again. "Harry! Come up here, if you please!"

Harry did get to his feet, though he stumbled when Darcy's hand was still attached to his. He looked back, blushing deeper as he tugged a little. She let go quickly, and sat back down. 

When he walked towards the top table, Dumbledore had set him off to the same chamber that Cedric Diggory had gone to. The three champions were seated in front of a fireplace, impressive looking.

Harry stood there, awkward and aloof. He had already caught sight of Fleur, and suddenly there was a bustling amount of footsteps that came from behind him.

"Harry!" Dumbledore said, reaching for his shoulders and shaking them. "Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire?"

Surprised, Harry replied hastily, "No, sir!"

"Did you ask one of the older students to do it for you?"

"No, sir!"

"You are  _absolutely sure_?"

"Yes, sir!"

"But of course ee' iz lying!" Madame Maxime shrilly said, her black fur scarf whipped behind her dramatically.

"Barely is!" Moody snapped back, making his way to Harry. "The Goblet of Fire is a powerful magical object--only an exceptionally powerful wizard is able to perform a strong Confundus charm--something that is highly complex to a  _fourteen year old!"_

Karkaroff glared at Moody. "You seem to have given this a lot of thought, haven't you, Mad-Eye?" he spat.

"Well, it's my  _job_  to think as Dark Wizards do," Moody said dismissively, "Perhaps you'll remember?"

"That doesn't help, Alastor!" Dumbledore said. He walked to Mr. Crouch. "This s up to you, Barty."

"The rules are absolute," Mr. Crouch said glumly. He gave a short pause. "The Goblet of Fire constitutes a binding magical contract...Mr. Potter has no choice. He is, after tonight, a Triwizard Champion."

. . .

When Harry and Cedric left the chamber, Darcy was already there to pounce on Harry with a hug. 

"You couldn't have!" she mumbled into his shoulder loudly. "You were with me! We were talking about Pad--oh, hello Cedric."

Cedric towered over the two when they parted from the hug. He stared oddly at the two. "Hello."

Darcy accompanied them as they walked the deserted Great Hall. 

"So," said Cedric, with a slight smile. "We're plaing against each other again?"

"I s'pose," said Harry. He really couldn't think of anything to say. The inside of hi shead seemed to be in complete jumbles. 

"So...tell me..." said Cedric as they reached the entrance hall. "How  _did_  you get your name in?"

"I didn't," said Harry, staring up at him. "I didn't put it in. I was telling the truth."

"Ah...okay," said Cedric. Harry and Darcy could tell Cedric didn't believe him. "Well...see you, then."

Instead of going up the marble staircase, Cedric headed for a door to its right. Harry and Darcy stood listening to him going down the stone steps beyond it, then, slowly, he went up the steps, forgetting that Darcy was still at the bottom.

"Bye, then, Harry," Darcy said, her voice hollow. She too turned to the left.

It only left Harry a little sad, when he saw the lone figure leave. He sometimes wished that Darcy wasn't in Slytherin and in his house. He would like the company of hers. They could talk anytime, instead of during breaks or the library.

Though, he much liked her company in those times the next few days, as she was only person who stood by him.


	17. daily prophet

****Darcy was not the most popular girl in Hogwarts, and she did not mind. Though, since Saturday, it was obvious that no one wanted to make an attempt to talk to her. She sat, alone for dinner at the Slytherin table, not finding Ron or Hermione. Thankfully, Harry's messy hair popped up and Darcy's eyes brightened at the sight of him.

Harry spotted her, and he felt a slight tip in his heart. Feeling uncomfortable, just looking at her, he darted to the end of the Gryffindor table when he couldn't spot Hermione.

Scuttling beside him, Darcy sat down and expectantly looked at him. He returned the same look, not knowing what she wanted

Sighing, Darcy whispered, "Did you send a letter to Padfoot?"

"Oh," Harry said numbly. "I did on Saturday...must be getting one pretty soon."

Darcy sat there, not sure what else to say. Harry felt a little light-headed, noticing her staring at him. He tried to eat, but after a while, he lost at and frustratingly left his food alone. He glanced at her, and she was pressing her lips together, thinking.

"What?" Harry said irritably, crossing his arms and leaning his head on them. 

"Sorry," Darcy mumbled. "I just...you haven't been talking to me lately. No one really has."

Immediately, Harry felt bad for being annoyed. After all, what right did he have to be mad that his friends weren't talking to him? Darcy was talking to him, and she barely had anyone in her own house, risking talking to her houses "nemesis."

"No, Darcy, I didn't mean to snap at you," Harry said, pulling his head away from his. "Hermione and Ron aren't talking to me--actually no one really is in my houses. I guess we're the same, aren't we?" At that, Harry's lips turned upwards in an attempt to make up for his sourness.

Darcy nodded with a light smile. "It's what makes us close."

Later that night, Darcy had went up to the owlery by herself and received a letter from her father. She grimaced when she realized it was the bird that had a knack for biting. Though, she took the letter and read it to herself.

_Dear Darcy,_

_I've told Harry to keep me posted on what happens at Hogwarts, and one thing that stood out in his letter is that he fancies you._

Darcy narrowed her eyes, reading further on with a thumping heart.

      _I don't really mind, and he didn't tell me as bluntly as I did, but it's always been my hope that the Black and Potter family would some day be related. But, aside from that, I also want you two to be closer--you are **both**  my family. _

_Already, you two are closer than what I imagined. Stay close to Harry, Darcy. He needs you, especially after his name being chosen for the tournament. I know you can take care of yourself, my beautiful, ambitious, clever daughter._

_So, when you come to contact with Harry, I would like him to show you his letter. I've set an arrangement with him in the Gryffindor common room and I want you to be there as well._

_Love,_

_Sirius_

. . .

The next day, Darcy had been waiting at a bench on the Hogwarts grounds, her Slytherin robes matching the others around her. She stuck out like a sore thumb. It seemed that everyone had saw Darcy holding Harry back when was chosen on Saturday, and they gave her the cold shoulder. This wasn't new, but her newly acquainted friends Gemma and Tracey were very keen to not speak to her in public.

The Daily Prophet's, Rita Skeeter, had released a full-paged article about Harry and the tournament. A few of the words that Darcy read were extremely unbelievable, and others were about her and Harry and  _Hermione_.

It was clear that Darcy was not the most  _unpopular_ girl, and she disliked it very much.

All three were called out for the article since it came out. Harry was labeled as "The Boy Who Has To Choose" because  _apparently_  Hermione and Darcy were fighting get his attention.

Pansy Parkinson was one of the many Slytherin girls that taunted Darcy in the Slytherin common room. Usually, Darcy would slip through unnoticed and overlooked, but now it was as though a big shining light had been placed upon her, following her. And usually, when something bad was said about Darcy, she would pretend to not listen. 

Though, this morning was not one of those days.

"I wonder who Potter will choose, the mud-blood or his parent's murderer's  _daughter_?" Pansy had announced in the common room. 

Darcy's feet were about to enter her dormitory, but she heard the foul slur that came out of Pansy's mouth and immediately snapped her foot back. Turning slowly, Darcy stared, a little surprised that Pansy had said such things.

"Do you have a single shred of  _respect_  for anyone, Pansy?" Darcy said loudly, and it rang through the room with shocked silence. No one really paid attention enough to realize she could speak again and Darcy felt much better about it, her confidence boosted.

"If I were ever caught saying any slur like that in America, I think I would've been ostracized from the country and labeled as a first-level  _racist_ ," Darcy declared. "If anyone were to call someone out just because they had non-magical parents and defiling them as 'mud-blood', it is very much similar to calling a black person a  _negro_ , you  _ignorant_ , pure-blood supremacists."

Blaise Zambini, who was a person of color, had looked uncomfortably around the common room. He saw Pansy was now sitting beside him, her face shocked, and he felt rather relieved that Darcy had said this. He had a new perspective of being pure-blood now, and he didn't really like the word "mud-blood" that much anymore.

Back to the Hogwarts grounds, Darcy stood up and pulled out her letter from her father when she saw Harry and Hermione reaching the bench, though hastily as well. She walked up to them and grabbed onto Harry shoulder, taking him by surprise as Hermione followed the two to a corridor.

"So you've gotten the letter?" Darcy said in a hushed tone. "Because I just received one last night, and my own father told me to sneak into the Gryffindor  _common room_."

Hermione looked ghastly at her. "Sneak into?" she said incredulously.

Harry looked around, seeking for eavesdroppers. When satisfied, he said, "Yeah, he did, actually. I was about to go read it--here." He handed Darcy the letter, as she did to him.

When finished, Darcy said, "On November twenty-second?"

" _'...it's always been my hope that the Black and Potter family would some day be related_ '? " Harry quoted, his voice slightly offended that Sirius was divulge in such. "He told you that I--?" he cut himself off when Hermione had looked curiously at Darcy's letter.

Darcy blushed and grabbed the letter from him. She'd forgotten that her father told her Harry fancied her. 

"So Sirius wants Darcy to sneak into the common room?" Hermione said, once she got a fair share of reading both of their letters. "How're you going to get her--"

"The invisibility cloak!" Harry suggested, tugging a very old one out of his robes.

Darcy stared at the two, dumbfounded. "You've had an invisibility cloak, Harry?"

"Yes, but he uses it for rather dumb things," Hermione inputted, her eyes pointed directly to Harry. "But, anyway--Darcy, would you like to accompany  _me_  to the Three Broomsticks? Harry's going underneath the cloak right now."

"Oh, yeah, of course," said Darcy and at the same time, Harry did pull the cloak over him. 

**published november 27, 2016**

**unedited.**


	18. death eater

****Somewhere around twelve at midnight, Darcy was put under the cloak of invisibility with Harry. She was still a little uneasy about sneaking into Gryffindor's tower at such a late hour. That, and Harry was undeniably close to her under the cloak. Though, her excitrement to see Sirius was convincing enough to let her break the rules.

"We've got a few minutes," mumbled Harry as they both walked up the stairs to the Gryffindor tower. "Hermione did say that she would keep you in her dorm, right?"

Nodding, Darcy glanced away. She noticed that there was a lot of paintings nearby. Harry placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her from walking. He pulls himself out from underneath the cloak and leads her all the way to a picture of a fat lady who was trying very hard to not fall asleep.

"Balderdash!" Harry said for at least the third time. The Fat Lady had not answered and were delaying them to get into the common rooms.

Though, she did not open her eyes when the portrait door opened. Harry had lead Darcy through the hole, and inside was a very warm room. It was cozier than Slytherins, and much more bright. The door closed behind them, and Darcy took the cloak off. 

"Here," Harry said quickly, pulling her to the chair nearest to a fireplace. Darcy and he took their seats, waiting and glancing around the place. She rather liked the place, with its red and orange tones.  Nearby, on a table, the Support Cedric Diggory! badges the Creeveys had been trying to improve were glinting in the firelight. They now read  _POTTER REALLY STINKS_.

She wrinkled her nose at the badges, feeling slightly guilty that Harry had to deal with the torment he received on her house. Darcy looked back to where Harry was, but squealed.

Sirius's head was sitting in the fire. Harry and she both broke out into smiles, though it seemed that Harry's was more worn. They inched closer, out of their chairs, and crouched down by the cackling fire.

"Sirius— how are you doing?" Harry asked at the same time Darcy said, "Where've you been? Philly hasn't been in Muggle Studies for ages."

Sirius looked different from when Darcy last saw him. Darcy actually never had a proper good-bye to him in third year, then Sirius's face had been gaunt and sunken, surrounded by a quantity of long, black, matted hair — but the hair was short and clean now, Sirius's face was fuller, and he looked younger.

To Harry, he looked a lot like the photographs of the Potter's wedding. He was much older than those of Ophelia, James and Sirius.

"Never mind me, how are you both?" said Sirius seriously.

Darcy had commented she was doing just well, with the acception of being a little lonely from time to time. Though, she cut her time short, since it was Harry who had the worst luck of them all at the moment.

"I'm —" Harry paused a while. Then, he  could not stop himself, he was talking more than he'd talked in days — about how no one believed he hadn't entered the tournament of his own free will, how Rita Skeeter had lied about him in the Daily Prophet, how he couldn't walk down a corridor without being sneered at — and about Ron, Ron not believing him, Ron's jealousy . . . 

Darcy's lip began to quiver at each word. This boy, who was so kind to look past the fact she was Slytherin, had taken the time to speak to  _her_. Harry, whom endured a lot as she heard, only wanted a normal life. She couldn't agree any more, and so she placed an encouraging hand over his.

". . . and now Hagrid's just shown me what's coming in the first task, and it's dragons, Sirius, and I'm a goner," he finished desperately.

Sirius had let Harry talk himself into silence without interruption, but now he said, "Dragons we can deal with, Harry, but we'll get to that in a minute — I haven't got long here . . . I've broken into a wizarding house to use the fire, but they could be back at any time. There are things I need to warn you about." 

"Really?" said Darcy, her heart leaping with joy. Of course! There was always more to worry about than  _just_  dragons!

"Karkaroff," said Sirius. "Harry— Darcy, he was a Death Eater. You know what Death Eaters are, don't you?"

"Yes — he — what?"

"He was caught, he was in Azkaban with me, but he got released. I'd bet everything that's why Dumbledore wanted an Auror at Hogwarts this year — to keep an eye on him. Moody caught Karkaroff. Put him into Azkaban in the first place."

"Karkaroff got released?" Harry said slowly. "Why did they release him?"

"He did a deal with the Ministry of Magic," said Sirius bitterly. "He said he'd seen the error of his ways, and then he named names . . . he put a load of other people into Azkaban in his place,  _including_ my sister—  thankfully Dumbledore was there to bail her out. Karkaroff's not very popular in there, I can tell you. And since he got out, from what I can tell, he's been teaching the Dark Arts to every student who passes through that school of his. So watch out for the Durmstrang champion as well."

"Okay," said Harry slowly. "But . . . are you saying Karkaroff put my name in the goblet? Because if he did, he's a really good actor. He seemed furious about it. He wanted to stop me from competing." 

Although Harry was taking a different approach on this whole Karkaroff Death Eater deal. 

"Are you saying that Ophelia—our Philly—was a—a Death Eater?" Darcy said in shock. Her mind was reeling off the thought.

Sirius's face, though it was hard to point out, was shifting uncomfortably. "Yes, she was—but only because she was undercover! Sixth year summer, she and—uhm, she was mostly hanging aloof from us..."'

"Okay," said Harry slowly, throwing a worrying glance at Darcy. "But . . . are you saying Karkaroff put my name in the goblet? Because if he did, he's a really good actor. He seemed furious about it. He wanted to stop me from competing."

For the most of the conversation, Darcy was in fact aloof from the two talking about the tournament. She felt discouraged that Sirius was focusing mostly on Harry. After all, she was his daughter. But, sadly, Harry's life was at risk, and Sirius really didn't have that much time.

Sirius talked about the disappearance of an old school mate named Bertha Jorkins and how she could possibly have been lured to a trap by Voldemort. Though it was then that Sirius was seething about the ministry.

"The Ministry had the  _audacity_  to stun my daughter!" Sirius spat, his eyes burning almost red like the fire. "Jorkins was always curious, it was never a good thing when you mix it with no smarts either."

Darcy was suddenly filled with warmth in her heart. She beamed mentally at the attention her father gave her. Though, her face held a tight frown. She didn't like the feeling of being stunned. Sometimes she wondered if she would have had a more safer life is she stayed in America. 

Either way, she liked it much better here, in Hogwarts.

"Right — these dragons," said Sirius, speaking very quickly now. "There's a way, Harry. Don't be tempted to try a Stunning Spell — dragons are strong and too powerfully magical to be knocked out by a single Stunner, you need about half a dozen wizards at a time to overcome a dragon —"

"Yeah, I know, I just saw," said Harry. 

Darcy also made a mental note to ask how he was doing.

"But you can do it alone," said Sirius. "There is a way, and a simple spell's all you need. Just —" 

But Harry held up a hand to silence him. She could hear footsteps coming down the spiral staircase behind him. Darcy reached over to the cloak, though she couldn't find it.

"Go!" he hissed at Sirius. "Go! There's someone coming!" 

Harry scrambled to his feet, hiding the fire — if someone saw Sirius's face within the walls of Hogwarts, they would raise an almighty uproar — if Darcy was caught in the dorm she would get so many detentions—

Harry heard a tiny _pop!_  in the fire behind him and knew Sirius had gone. Quickly, he took the cloak and draped it over Darcy. He watched the bottom of the spiral staircase. Who had decided to go for a stroll at one o'clock in the morning, and stopped Sirius from telling him how to get past a dragon? 

It was Ron. Dressed in his maroon paisley pajamas, Ron stopped dead facing Harry across the room, and looked around. Thankfully, the only thing that could be seen were Darcy's feet that were out of Ron's perspective, though she fixed that quickly.

"Who were you talking to?" he said. 

"What's that got to do with you?" Harry snarled. "What are you doing down here at this time of night?"

Darcy bounced her head between the two.

"I just wondered where you —" Ron broke off, shrugging. "Nothing. I'm going back to bed."

 "Just thought you'd come nosing around, did you?" Harry shouted. This time, Darcy kicked Harry's shin.

"Sorry about that," said Ron, his face reddening with anger. "Should've realized you didn't want to be disturbed. I'll let you get on with practicing for your next interview in peace— maybe thinking about Darcy and Hermione, who you're going to choose." 

Harry seized one of the  _POTTER REALLY STINKS_  badges off the table and chucked it, across the room. It hit Ron on the forehead and bounced off. "There you go," Harry said. "Something for you to wear on Tuesday. You might even have a scar now, if you're lucky...That's what you want, isn't it?" 

When Ron had left, Darcy pulled the cloak off of her and punched Harry on the shoulder— _hard_. 

"Are you thick?" Darcy harshly whispered, her eyes following the shadow of Ron. "He's you're best friend, Harry—I mean, I knew you two had a fallout—but I didn't think you would go as far as—"

"It's not your business, Darce," Harry snapped, still rubbing his shoulder.

Darcy knew he didn't mean to sound so rude, but she stood up and glared at him. 

"You need to sort this out, Harry," Darcy whispered. "The First task—the dragons—you need to juggle all of these problems and  _make them your bitch_."

Harry was shocked at Darcy's use of a curse word. He was at lost of words, staring at her like she was a new person. 

"I—look, Darcy—I'm sorry if I came off rude," he apologized quickly, staring at her oddly. All of a sudden, she seemed much more  _attractive_  and strong.

Darcy nodded and pulled him up from the floor. Looking at Harry for a long while, she sighed and brought him to a hug so tight. Though, he winced.

"Ah, I didn't mean to punch you so hard," Darcy mumbled, instead pulling her arms over his shoulders. "It's just...this is all too much."

Harry nodded awkwardly with a yawn. He had his arms wrapped around her torso and was rubbing her back tiredly. "I was being a—"

There was a tiny knock—along with a rather odd squeal.

Darcy and Harry jumped apart, their heads whipping around to find the source of the voice. Though, the efforts were thwarted because the tiny shadow had retreated before Harry could even see his face.

"Do you think that was Ron?" Darcy whispered, holding onto the cloak tight.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "No—it was probably  first year," he replied. "Shoot, what if—?"

Darcy was already on her way to the portrait whole. "I'm going to be going now, Harry," she said, throwing the cloak over to him.

Rushing, he caught the cloak and ran to her. "No—no, we can both go under the cloak. I can drop you of..."

A moment of silence.

 _Had Harry just asked to walk her out_?

 


	19. hello, old friend

 

_Hello, Pauline,_

_It's odd, writing to you from across the seas. We weren't close, and I am aware of that, bu you were the closest to everyone that I knew in Ilvermorny._

_So we crossed paths in the Qudditch World Cup—also, was the Amandla Picquery I saw you with? She was the Horned Serpent that vowed to be just like her grandmother, right? She was quite the academic prodigy— though she couldn't really match my smarts when it came to Reverse Cursing and Defense class._

_Aside from that, I guess I also wanted to let off some steam that I really couldn't at the World Cup._

_I guess you've heard of the mass murderer that escaped from Azkaban. He is my father. Though, I really don't want to talk about that in full detail. Maybe in the summer? Maybe we can arrange something?_

_I know we're aren't as close as we used to be. But there's no point in pretending we weren't ever friends, right?_

_Darcy Black_

Daarcy thought the letter was good enough. So, after she sent it off to Ilvermorny, she headed down to the Muggle Studies classroom. 

At first, Darcy thought it was empty, just like the other times she had tried to talk to Philly. THis time, Darcy really wanted to speak to her aunt.

Except, from the corner of her eye after turning away from the classroom, she saw Ophelia bustling out from the back door that lead to her office. She had her hair changed to light green and purple shade with the exception of a few strands of silver. It was an odd choice of color, since all of Darcy's life, Ophelia had only went for the stark black hair that made her resemble Sirius.

Ophelia caught sight of her niece, and she fixed her hair back. "Hi, Darce," she said cheerfully and smiled widely.

Darcy intensively walked in, her pace slow and aware of the odd and happy mood that her aunt was in. 

"Where've you been?" she asked, repeating the same question she asked Sirius. "I've come in this class, and nearly all the time, you are not here on your free time. Harry's got the task tomorrow, and I'm really worried about—I was trying to get your advice—"

Darcy was engulfed in a hug that refuted her rant. 

"I'm so sorry," Ophelia exclaimed, when she pulled away from their hug. She pushed Darcy to got towards the front of the desk, and closed the classroom doors. "I—just—I was trying to find a place for Sirius to stay—and I think I did!"

Darcy took a seat on a desk, and watched Ophelia closely. "You've gotten a place other than the expanded hut we lived in for the summer?"

Nodding enthusiastically, Ophelia waved her wand and there was an appearance of loads—and loads of papers. Darcy stood up and ran a hand over the stacks of paper.

"What's this?" she asked, looking up to meet the top part of Ophelia's head whilst she read through the papers.

"The paperwork I had to  _dig_  up at the Ministry so that they—those assholes—could give me back Grimmauld Place."

"What's—"

"—the house that Sirius and I grew up in, and abandoned the minute we were disowned."

Raising her eyebrows, Darcy said, "Why would you go back? Wait—I don't even know your past—Philly—please? Could you just keep your excitement in for a little while?"

Ophelia turned to look at Darcy expectantly, her face still happy and impatient. 

Taking in a deep breath, Darcy nodded to herself in encouragement. "I've spoken to  _Padfoot_ —my dad two nights ago. He said—he said you were a—a death eater!"

That was good enough to stop Ophelia from shaking the papers in her hand so fervently. "He told you—what?"

Darcy made sure her words were clear. "You were a Death Eater, a spy for Dumbledore. Yes. Or no?"

A prolonged silence followed. Ophelia was borderline considering lying to her niece, or telling her everything. Her reasoning why she agreed to do it, to how she tried to prevent James and Lily's death. That would get into way more severe back story that Ophelia thought was too much for a Monday night.

"Yes, I was," replied Ophelia, to which Darcy's shoulders slumped a little. "But—I did it for many, many reasons that are far too long. Darcy, I would have to write you up a  _book_. It would be like—fifteen to maybe twenty five chapters. Or more, depends on if you want me to tell you why James Potter actually fell in love with me—"

"Okay," Darcy said slowly, her eyes narrowing at her aunt. "Why didn't you tell me? I've—you've been keeping so much stuff, Philly—it's like, I don't even  _know_  you."

Ophelia's gaze turned steely. "Now," she said, this time her voice wasn't carefree. She seemed to take on a more scolding tone. "It doesn't mean that I'm a different person. Don't be  _dramatic_ , okay?"

Darcy's skin heated up, her cheeks burned with irritation. "You never tell me anything!" she screeched, her voice echoing around the empty classroom—maybe even the school. She flayed her arms around. "You never told me Sirius was my dad—I understand that you don't ever want to be connected to your old family, given what you told me—but—but I want to know! I shouldn't be denied to  _know_!"

Also just as angry, Ophelia retorted, "Then what do you want to know, Darcy? How your mother died—at the hands of my cousin? How I was told—repeatedly that I wasn't going to ever live up to the Black name—how I was tortured by jinxes and humiliation, and my father wouldn't do anything but encourage prejudice against muggles and half-breeds and all things that I now love?"

It was a though the whole castle were silent, like it was depending on Ophelia's next confessions for it to continue to its normal buzz. Darcy didn't expect an outburst from her aunt like this—though she had to agree that maybe she was a little too pushy.

Embarrassed and speechless, Darcy released her clenched fists. Ophelia's hair had turned a bright orange, something that was slightly off-putting for Ophelia's pale features.It was also the matter that Ophelia had said she loved muggles—and  _half-breeds_. It stuck to Darcy, now, why her aunt had been gone for so long. That maybe...maybe her aunt was in love with Remus Lupin.

"I—I didn't know all of that—" Darcy began

"I know you didn't," Ophelia shakily said and held onto her desk for support, "I never told you how I lived—the suffering that I endured."

After a while, Darcy felt that it was okay to joke.

"Maybe you should write a novel," she said, though it came out more serious. "Make it a physiological book for wizards today. Maybe...maybe you can make it a fiction novel for the no-majs."

A smile cracked onto her face, as though she was already doing so.

. . .

The morning of the task was a day that Darcy was feeling very on edge. She'd caught up to Harry in the Great Hall, who was receiving either nice or rude comments. She held onto his shoulder to get his attention and asked if he was prepared.

As cryptic as he could, Harry said, "Yes."

She looked at him, her eyes narrowing. "You have? With Hermione? You're all set?" She had been caught up with the training that they had done together, though Hermione also wouldn't get into too much detail.

"I'm not supposed to talk about it aloud, Darce," he said lowly, looking around only to see many people staring at the two. "Remember? I wasn't supposed to  _know_?"

Grimacing, Darcy nodded, though she latched her arm around his in an attempt to be comforting. "Well, I really do hope your okay. I'm sure you'll do great—after all that Hermione's told me..."

"Yeah," Harry said, his shoulders slumping. 

And after that, Professor McGonagall had swiftly taken Harry away from Darcy's arms, who was standing, watching them leave and fidgeting the rock on her neck.

Turning around, Darcy sighed, tagging along with Hermione and Ron to the stands.

 


	20. thanks

 

Three of the champions had gotten their egg, and now it was only Harry left. Darcy squeezed onto Hermione's hand, watching his tiny body from above as he entered the dragon's arena.

The dragon was hovering over the golden egg—the egg that Harry had to get in under a certain amount of time to win points for this task. 

The dragon was massive, the biggest of the four she's seen. And it was not liking Harry at all.

She smoked out her fire, and Harry narrowly misses, earning a cry from Hermione and Darcy. Then, he points his wand out, using the Summoning Charm for his Firebolt.

During that time, Harry spent most of it dodgin the Hungarian Horntail with immense agility and luck. Every now and then, he would close his eyes to regain his balance, and then go back to not  _dying_.

Like a gift sent from the heavens, the Fire scirted to Harry and he jumped on it, trying to get the attention of the dragon.

" _OH MY FUCKING GOD!_ " Darcy screamed, along with Hermione jumping up, but gave a dirty look at Darcy. "He did! Hermione—Ron!"

Ron, surprisingly was cheering as well, his eyes brightened as he met Darcy's. "I know!"

"Don't cuss!" Hermione scolded, her eyes still on the match between Harry and the dragon.

Then, merely three minutes later, Harry had gotten the golden egg in his hands. The dragon keepers—Darcy even caught Charlie—try to subdue the dragon.

Darcy had ran down from the bleachers, shoving everyone in the her way and following the teachers. She smiled so brightly when she saw Harry, who was being congratulated from the Professors and pulled to a tent.

Darcy slowed her pace, just as Ron and Hermione had caught up with her.

"You did great, Mione!" Darcy said, her smile radiant. "I'm proud—so, proud of you!" she jumped to Hermione and hugged her.

"Well, we did practice together," Hermione laughed, patting her back.

THey walked closer to the tent, where Harry's shadow could be seen from the mouth of the tent.

"Harry, you were brilliant!" Hermione said squeakily. There were fingernail marks on her face where she had been clutching it in fear. "You were amazing! You really were!"

But Harry was looking past Hermione and Darcy. Ron, who was very white and staring at Harry as though he were a ghost. 

"Harry," he said, very seriously, "whoever put your name in that goblet — I — I reckon they're trying to do you in!"

"Caught on, have you?" said Harry coldly. "Took you long enough."

After a while of uncertainty, Darcy and Hermione were watching the two. Hermione was nervous, though Darcy was staring expectantly at them.

"It's okay," he said, before Ron could get the words out. "Forget it." 

"No," said Ron, "I shouldn't've —" 

" _Forget it_ ," Harry said. 

Ron grinned nervously at him, and Harry grinned back. 

Hermione burst into tears.

"There's nothing to cry about!" Harry told her, bewildered. 

"You two are so stupid!" she shouted, stamping her foot on the ground, tears splashing down her front. Then, before either of them could stop her, she had given both of them a hug and dashed away, now positively howling. 

Darcy stared wide-eyed at Hermione, her face a little white. "Well, you guys were stupid," Darcy said, her eyes more pointed at the two boys. "If you call her 'mad', Ron, I'll personally shove you mouth up your ass."

After Ron was explaining to Harry about the performance of the other champions, Darcy spot Charlie and widened her eyes. Her heart thumped, and her cheeks redden, turning away to fix the mess of hair she had on her head.

"You're tied in first place, Harry! You and Krum!" said Charlie Weasley, hurrying to meet them as they set off back toward the school. "Listen, I've got to run, I've got to go and send Mum an owl, I swore I'd tell her what happened — but that was unbelievable! Oh yeah — and they told me to tell you you've got to hang around for a few more minutes. . . . Bagman wants a word, back in the champions' tent."

When Harry entered the tent, Ron and Darcy were left alone to wait. 

"Do you fancy my brother?" Ron said, staring at the passing students that were heading up the castle.

Bewildered, Darcy glanced back to the tent, and to her feet. "I don't know what your talking about."

Ron gave her a suspicious look. "Ah, well, I saw you fixing up you're hair when he came by—seemed rather—"

"The wind was pretty harsh, " Darcy interjected, clearin gher throat. "And even if I did like Charlie, it would only be because he's just a great person—not like we're going to get married or anything..."

"Right," Ron said, though he was very convinced that the age difference would never allow them to date. 

When the three—Harry, Ron, and Darcy—were reunited and began getting further more detail about the others in the arena, there was a witch that leapt out from behind them.

   "Congratulations, Harry!" she said, beaming at him, her acid-green robes whirling against the wind. "I wonder if you could give me a quick word? How you felt facing that dragon? How you feel now, about the fairness of the scoring?"

"Yeah, you can have a word," said Harry savagely. " _Good-bye_."

. . .

Harry, Ron, and, Darcy Hermione went up to the Owlery that evening to find Pigwidgeon, so that Harry could send Sirius a letter telling him that he had managed to get past his dragon unscathed. On the way, Harry filled Ron in on everything Sirius had told him about Karkaroff. Though shocked at first to hear that Karkaroff had been a Death Eater, by the time they entered the Owlery Ron was saying that they ought to have suspected it all along.

"Oh and," Darcy added, "I was there, in the Gryffindor common room."

"Ruddy hell, Darce," said Ron, his eyes wide, "you're just full of surprises, aren't you? First, you cuss like a sailor, second, breaking all of the castle rules— here, I'll do it—"

Catching Pigwidgeon on midair, Harry tied his letter around its leg. Ron then threw Pigwidegon—Darcy was against it and punched him— out the window.

"Don't treat animals like that," she hissed, watching the owl regain its balance as it flew away. Then, she walked to a loaner owl, Gareth, a tawny owl she'd liked for a while, and sent her letter to Pauline. (This would be Darcy's second letter).

"Well, we'd better get downstairs for your surprise party, Harry — Fred and George should have nicked enough food from the kitchens by now." 

Darcy was mildly excited at the mention of a party, but soon remembered that she really  _couldn't_  go to it. There would be a lot of staring...

Hermione had noticed her glum face, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "You know, I'm pretty sure there's going to be a few other people from other houses in there—I've seen plenty of Hufflepuffs before in the common room..."

Raising her eyebrows, Darcy smiles widely. "Are you—Hermione Jean Granger—asking  _me_  to sneak into the Gryffindor tower? Breaking  _rules_ , for a  _Slytherin_!"

"Oh—but you're not like the other toss-hats!" Ron exclaimed, rolling his eyes at the two girls. "You just as well spent the entire  _summer_  with us, so if anyone's got a problem with you—"

"—they've got a problem with us," Harry finished for him, sending a warm smile to Darcy.

As much as it seemed like it was okay for her to join in, Darcy shook her head. "No, it's fine. I'm actually quite tired—thanks for considering me though."

Her lie was quite convincing, though it was Harry, the last person to hug her as they left for their common room, that caught the slight sadness in her eyes as she let go of him. He was once again reminded of how much she didn't belong in Slytherin.

 

 


	21. naive, am i

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: this chapters probably really confusing. It'll probably go under EXTREEEMME editing! published december 5, 2016

****Her neck was extremely itchy, the rock that prevented the pain of her vocals sitting there with all its beauty. Darcy hated taking the thing off, as it was a risk of losing her voice—again.

The Slytherin common room was filled with students at the start of December. There were excited whispers about what would happen for the second task, though since Harry hadn't figure it out, Darcy hadn't put it under her priorities at the moment.

It was the time of  _week,_  now--not month anymore.

She walked at a slow pace that evening, not caring for the odd looks she received.

It had been something that Darcy didn't like to think about everyday. It's what made her in such a bad mood most of the time.

This started during the the first weeks of school, when she'd experienced episodes of depression—a term Ophelia had been using frankly after her lessons with Snape, though Ophelia didn't know about to.

Now,  _Snape_ —he was quite interested to see  _why_  Darcy had been selected for the rare cursed gift. How her silence was any part of it. He was kinder to her—and it was nice to not deal with his remarks about her father.

So, for twelve years or so, Darcy had oppressed her ability to release her more available access to navigate through the " _many layers of a person's mind_ ". It was an act that allowed her to flow through a person's mind, feel what they feel in certain situations.

"How long have you experienced flashes of, say,  _memories,_ in your previous years?" Snape had said one evening on their first lessons. "It's crucial that your seemingly adaptful mind has  _wanted_  to reach into minds, but you've been oppressing it, correct?"

Darcy stared at him. "Second year, I was able to look into Amandla Picquery's mind and see her grandmother, Seraphina Picquery...Amandla was pretty freaked out too, said that she just had a vision about her grandma...After that, I was too scared to even talk to her anymore."

Amandla Picquery was pressured by her mother to not follow in her grandmothers footsteps: which was, the president of MACUSA (Magical Congress of the U.S.A.). From seeing Amandla's memories, Darcy got the idea that Amandla's mother thought that it was no work for a woman to be President. (According to history, Seraphina Picquery was the greatest president to handle no-maj secrecy, but was very insensitive and reacted under pressure.)

He shook his head in mock disappointment. "That's when you pushed back your mind?"

From her chair, Darcy nodded stiffly. She didn't know where this was going, but after that, Snape had allowed her to try to get into his head. He picked out a few memories for her to see, as she actually successfully infiltrated his mind. She'd seen Snape, in his perspective, try to reverse a curse that was making—what appears to be—a younger Harry's broom moving at its own will.

Snape was surprised and dismissed her to leave. He congratulated her rather dully.

December had began just as dull for Darcy as well. Her birthday was nearing in January, and she wasn't sure of she was actually excited at all.

Her lesson for the night was what made everything... _interesting_.

"I assume your aunt doesn't know that you are taking these classes?" he said right after she took her seat in the potions class.

She shivered, and glanced away from Snape and to the door.It was a chilly evening, and she wore tons of layers that could've added on fifty pounds.

"No, she doesn't—about me being a Legilimens."

"But you would even tell Potter," he sneered. "I thought that you had more decency, to put more trust in adults than a silly boy."

Flushing, Darcy glared at him. She was going to retort back, but remembered that he was her teacher, for Legilimency and Potions.

"I haven't said a word to anyone," Darcy said through gritted teeth. "I've kept my lessons to myself—I don't want make anyone uncomfortable."

To be honest, she found it odd that Snape was a practiced Legilimency and Occlumency. Was he able to read her mind right at this— _you know what? Not right now. Learn_.

"Very modest," Snape glowered. "But, that's not what today's lesson is."

"So...no going through your mind?"

"No, you're finished. You passed this 'class' better than any others that have tried. Which—" he said harshly, "—is what will lead to why you experience so much pain when speaking without  _that_." He gestured to the celestial rock around her neck.

Her hand reached up to touch the rock. "Since when did my rock have to do with Legilimency—that sounds like rubbish!" she said, her eyes wide with shock. "It only a meteorite that landed in the lakes, that merpeople had embedded with sacred magic—that's all."

Snape looked doubtfully at her. "That's whats in that silly, American  _textbook_  of yours."

Darcy was about to retort, but her mouth shut close. It was best for her to listen. How in the world could this rock effect her? It's only ever done good.

"Celestial rocks  _are_  meteorites embedded with sacred magic. Though, it's much more different on how it affects certain wizards. It can affect werewolves differently—make them receive an extended transformation per month, but keep their sanity safe. Seers often react badly to celestial rocks, it tends to make them see more reliable visions. And—"

His black eyes had looked at her confused face. "—and I know you can't guess what I'm teaching you."

"This rock has done nothing wrong, if that's what your saying. I don't feel pain when I speak and I will  _never_  take it off."

Snaps clicked his tongue, glaring down at her. He looked sickly pale, more so than ever and in a rush.

"Evasiveness doesn't get you anywhere," he sneered. "Do you think the merpeople are going to grant that sacred magic to you until  _you_  die?"

Oh. When he puts it that  _way_... She pursed her lips tight in silent embarrassment.

"The merpeople will take back the rock, and when they ask, you cannot say no.

"But when the rock comes off, and its protective magic is gone, there is a way that--hypothetically--could relieve your pain. A reason why your head throbs so much without the rock. Pushing back your mind from its natural need effected you greatly. Your silent curse not only made you mute, but made every action that you did silent."

Darcy reeled back, how could he know that her movements were—?

"You spoke to Ophelia!" Darcy shrieked, standing up and glaring. "That must've meant that you told her what I can do!"

Snake didn't flinch, but only stared at her with his heavy lids and bored expression. "It was not my fault that you did not mention your aunt didn't know of our lessons. Now she does. Sit back down."

Fuming, Darcy does so, listening once again.

"As I was saying, the curse had made everyone in you mute. It's the same analogy as the celestial rock: the rock will effect certain wizards...just as a bloodquill can kill a werewolf...just as  _curses_  can pain legilimency-prone minds.

"There aren't many Legilimens that can adapt so quickly to the practice like you. The term 'Legilimency-prone' is what defines those wizards. Your curse deeply deterred your vocals, which means that when you speak your own mind cannot handle it. However, when--not if--the rock is returned, your Legilimency can help with that pain."

There was so much knowledge and theory that Snape said. It didn't seem rather...far-fetched, actually. No ounce of what Snape said convinced Darcy fully. 

So she was left to her own thoughts for the time being. Snape had told her that she should practice speaking witout the rock—to practice Legilimency on herself. At first, Darcy didn't understand how she can basically search through her own memories. How would that allow her to speak—?

"Then," said Darcy skeptically, "how?"

Snape, seemingly pleased, had waved his wand and summoned her rock to him. 

Surprised, Darcy attempted to reach for the rock, but Snape had held his hand up. 

"Don't worry," he said, "I'll be taking this until the end of the lesson. Try to clear your thoughts, calm your body—and most importantly, find yourself in your mind."

"You make it sound so easy," muttered Darcy, seating herself. She sighed, and laid herself on top of the table. She relaxed, as though she were going to sleep, but her mind would be awake.

Snape's desk drawer had opened, and he placed something in there.

The small act was enough for her to peak her eyes open, but closed them before she could see anything.  _Focus_. Relax—and calmly navigate though your mind.

For a moment, it seemed as though her body was levitated, but still intact. Darcy had felt her chest rise—and then there was a beat! A heart beat—it had to be. Then, as she exhaled—it was as though the dust around her...the air had made a  _whoosh_! 

The sudden thumps of her breath, travelling through her throat, and flowing so easy. If only...if only she could speak as smooth... When her heart beat accelerated—she was very excited now—Darcy had jumped up, her eyes wide.

"Have—have you ever tried to navigate through your mind?" said Darcy, her voice breathless with excitement—

From his desk, Snape shook his head, but he had a sort of pleased look in his eyes. 

It took Darcy a few seconds to realize—she'd spoken—and it did not hurt. But, as Darcy went to say something else, it was a light throb that made her gargle a little.

"You did it," Snape said, impressed. He handed her the rock. "You may go, Darcy—this time, bring Professor Black with you."

With his kind words, Darcy left, feeling accomplished.


	22. ask me?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: Also, I never mentioned that Roland Abberly had a hair color... Darce is pronounced Dahr-s. THIS IS SUCH A LONG CHAPTER BTW IM SOOO SORRRYYY.
> 
> Published december 10, 2016. UNEDITED!

 

_"I know I could try looking for something new_   
_But wherever I go, I'll be looking for you."_

**_Wherever I Go ─ OneRepublic_ **

_. . ._

Elated, with a new practice that could save her voice, Darcy had pounced on Hermione with a hug the next day—right after the announcement of the Yule Ball.

"I've got  _bunches_ to tell you!" Darcy sang, her face taken over with a huge smile. She told her every thing—from her legilimency lessons to her cure. It was a free flow, something that Darcy seemed to practice a lot on.

And Hermione had taken just as well as Ophelia—the two had a short talk, but her aunt was nonetheless happy to hear the news.

"How far've you gotten into Legilimency?" Hermione asked, her eyes curious. It had been a while after, maybe a week and a few days.

Darcy shrugged, still searching about the book shelves in the library. Since it was the holidays, Snape had called off the lessons for the month. There was a significantly lower amount of girls, maybe because Viktor Krum wasn't there...

"Pretty good, I can keep it under control," she said, finding a book— _surprise_ , Legilimency— and sat back down. "It's really quiet here. I wonder if Krum finally..."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably at the mention of his name, averting her eyes from Darcy. It was a small act, but the tingle in Darcy head told her otherwise. It was a reoccuring thing, ever since she was better applicable to her abilities.

"What's got you uncomfortable?"Darcy said, still flicking through the pages of her book. She glanced up, her eyes questioning.

"I—uhm," Hermione stuttered, though her eyes widened when Darcy tapped her head, implying that she could just sneak in there. "oh—fine!"

More quietly, Hermione leaned closer to her and said, "Viktor Krum asked me to the Yule Ball."

"Wait—I thought—you  _hated_  him!"

"Well—he was a decent boy!" Hermione said, covering up Darcy's mouth before she could even retort.

"Okay, okay," Darcy mumbled into her hand, prying it off. "I get it, you don't want to talk about it—oh, but, Hermione! That's adorable!"

Hermione blushed, and finally silenced the talk of boys as she was growing more stressed about Harry's second task.

"He hasn't done a  _thing_  since he passed the task," huffed Hermione. She had stomped her feet over to a shelf, grabbing more books and then dropping them back to their table.

Darcy admitted that Harry should get a break. The bloke had defeated a dragon,  _at fourteen_. Motherfucker should've already won the tournament.

"I know he does," Hermione sighed, and Darcy could now see her eyes shimmering with tipping tears.

"Plus, he's got the Yule Ball to worry about," said Darcy, her eyebrows wiggling at her.

"Shut up," laughed Hermione.

"Hey!" Darcy retorted, her eyes playfully glaring. "I haven't got a date! I'm just looking for a god d—"

"Don't cuss!"

From around the corner, Darcy saw a familiar red head. Though, her eyes squinted, making sure what she saw was real. He looked much more healthier than last year. In fact, Roland Abberly's skin was still pale, but not so pale that you worried he would burn under the sun.

It was odd, seeing Roland from three tables across Hermione and Darcy, reading with stacks and stacks of books. Though, the outburst from Hermione had caused mostly everyone in the vicinity to look up from their books and look at the two girls.

Roland had caught Darcy's eyes, and they widened in shock and recognition. For a moment, it was like the two were silently debating to wave—when finally, Darcy had mustered up the courage to lift her hand up.

She looked back to Hermione, who was staring intently at Darcy and the Ravenclaw boy. Then, realization clouded her eyes, and she smiled.

"I heard you fancied red heads," whispered Hermione, her eyes wiggling just as much as Darcy wiggled hers.

Scrunching her nose, Darcy shifted in her seat. Ron must've seen past her lie right after the first task about liking Charlie. "Yeah—I'm guessing Ron told you about that?"

"Told everyone!" Hermione chuckled. "Don't blame you—Charlie  _is_  pretty extraordinary."

Darcy smiled shyly, then frowned. "Well, I can't really ask a twenty year old to the Yule Ball," joked Darcy, her eyes averting to the book in her hands.

Hermione hesitated, "Should've seen the look on Harry's face..."

Tearing her eyes from the book, Darcy snapped her head up.

More confident, Hermione smiled tentatively. "He looked a little crestfallen—actually, he was going to ask you to the Yule Ball..."

Darcy pulled a face that, to Hermione, seemed like it was a bad idea to mention Harry.

Though, to Darcy, her throat constricted. Her checks were so hot, that she felt a small bead of sweat pile between her lips and nose. What kind of answer of that—how should Darcy react?

Rushed, Darcy gushed, "Did he tell you that?"

Hermione smiled, very relieved that Darcy was curious.

"Of course he did, Darce!" shrilled Hermione so loudly, that surrounding even hushed her. Embarrassed, she quietly continued, "For the past year, you two've gotten way better along than Ron and I have."

"Oh—okay," Darcy said numbly. Though, she turned back to her book, staring at its pages.

Harry liked her? Darcy wasn't sure what to think, because this wasn't something she was really exposed to very much. Sure, it was a nice thought—and Harry was undeniably anything but malicious to her when they first met. He was understanding, and adorably awkward.

Twisting the pages in her fingers, Darcy's gaze traveled from the shelves to the people beyond them. More closely, she studied Roland, another boy who was kind to her when they first met. Sure, there was the curiosity that was bubbling in his mind, but Darcy thought he was a great acquaintance.

Hermione scrutinized the look Darcy gave to the red head, her eyes worried if maybe Darcy didn't like Harry as much as he did. Her meek replied indicated just as much.

Wandering her eyes to the small clock set near them, Hermione urged Darcy that it was time to eat diner.

"Do we have to?" Darcy whined, her books shoved into her satchel.

"Yes—we do."

"But it's Christmas time, we should starve ourselves for the feast."

"I promised to meet Ginny there ─ Also, would you like to come to the common room for a while? I know it get's lonely for you..."

"Fine."

Hermione glanced back at Darcy, curious about her glum tone. She saw that Darcy was staring anywhere but straight, her eyes wandering to the windows they passed and the kids they saw. There was a dark shadow that loomed over Darcy's eyes that worried Hermione even more.

A much as Hermione wanted to know what Darcy's thinking, she knew that she couldn't. She was a mystery, and from what Harry has told Hermione, that's what was so endearing.

. . .

On Sunday, Darcy had clung close to Hermione, her body shivering. It was horrible staying at the Slytherin common rooms. Tracey and Gemma were nice, but since Darcy's outbreak about prejudice, everyone seemed to distance themselves from her.

"So, have you found a date, Ickle Darcy?" George  had asked,ruffling her hair as he sat right next to Darcy at the Gryffindor common room. "Cuz', I heard you had a crush on  _Charlus_  ─ or was it  _Harry_?"

"Whoa—whoa," Darcy said, holding a hand up. "What're you doing?"

Fred's hand froze over Darcy's plate, a piece of candy was now on her plate—deliciously taunting her with the words "Caramel Toffee."

Narrowing her eyes, Darcy slapped Fred's hand away and grabbed the candy "I thought your mom took these away over the summer!" said Darcy. She threw the candy at Fred, her eyes poisonous.

George laughed, patting Darcy's head with his hand. "Obviously we were going to make more!"

"I thought my hair was already enough to lose, you motherf—"

Hermione shot a glare at Darcy and she cut her words short.

Darcy lifted her hands up in surrender, though she mouthed the word to Fred and George.

Fred rolled his eyes. "You still look as dashing as you did with long hair."

"To be honest," voiced George with a chuckle leg in his mouth, "we did you a favor! Even Harry said it was nice."

Blushing at the mention of Harry, Darcy stuffed her face with mashed potatoes. Harry from, across the room with Ron and Hermione, had eyed the twins and Darcy with his book still in his hands.

Hermione and Harry were bickering among each other  about the second task.

In other news, Neville Longbottom had asked Ginny after asking Hermione (this was what Fred and George were telling Darcy, as she tried to eat her food). Fred went along with Angelina Johnson ─ just asked her out five minutes ago after talking to Harry and Ron ─ yet George hasn't got a date yet.

"Don't even think about asking me out," Darcy snapped after George hinted at his situation.

Mocking offense, Fred placed a hand over his heart. "I haven't said anything!"

Darcy glared at him. "Maybe if you didn't burn my hair off in the summer, I would've said yes."

George looked almost disappointed. "Freddy and I gave you the free pass for our upcoming store!"

"Oh yeah," Darcy agreed, tapping her chin. "I wouldn't want to lose that..."

Looking back at Hermione, who was now staring wide-eyed at Darcy. Darcy blushed, remembering what her friend said about Harry.

George was mid-into talking to Darcy about going to the Yule Ball before Darcy interrupted him.

"What about that Hufflepuff girl, the one in your year that everyone's been talking about?"

Fred and George looked at each other, their faces confused.

"Who?" the twins said in unison.

"You know," said Darcy, squirming under their gaze. "That Scamander girl ─"

" _Jani Scamander_?" George said shrilly. "She's best friends with Cedric Diggory ─why would I want to acquaint myself with her?"

Darcy shrugged. "It wouldn't hurt to ask her to the ball. She's actually really kind...from what I've heard."

"From what you've heard?" questioned Fred. "Is that convincing or what?"

"Well, she looks nice!"

Fred stared a bit longer at the Darcy. Then to his twin, he said, "She's pretty popular, and a year older than us, actually, Georgy  ─ plus, I'm pretty sure Darcy is waiting for Charlie ─ or Harry ─ to ask her to the ball."

Darcy blushed even brighter, but rolled her eyes. "I'd say you should knock it out ─plus, you burned my hair, I think I deserve more than free tricks at your store."

George rolled his eyes back. " _Fine_ ─but only because I burned your hair off."

"I'm leaving you lot," Darcy announced, placing her food on a table and crawling her way to Hermione. She leaned against Hermione on the floor of the couch, her head sitting on the arm of the couch.  "Hey, 'Mione, Merry Christmas."

"It's not Christmas," mumbled Hermione, smiling and flickered though the book in her hand. 

Harry stared at Ron, his mouth upturning into a smile.

"Oh," Darcy said, her eyes teasing. "Must be from talking to Fred and George. Felt like I was talking for weeks."

Hermione let out a small giggle.

Harry smiled, his stomach lifting with her childish taunts. Perhaps...tomorrow he could ask her to the ball. She was alone most of the time, and it seemed rather nice to go with his godfather's daughter...there wouldn't be anything weird...

Darcy returned his smile, her cheeks flushed.  Harry didn't know if it was the fire's heat, but she looked adorable.

. . .

It was the next day, and Darcy found herself quiet for the duration of classes. Her time at the Gryffindor common room was great, but there was a sudden loom of clouds that hovered her head  ─and she meant that literally.

Her letter sent to Pauline had been  _shredded_  by the owl that was sent from Ilvermorny. (Add the snow that had now melted and slogged up the paper). Darcy was undeniably devastated, as she sat down at the owlery, and stared at the tattered letter.

"What the hell?" whispered Darcy, this time her eyes burned with frustration. Though, on the other hand of hers, she had a perfectly fine letter from Sirius.

Darcy rubbed her eyes and sighed. She would have to ask Ophelia to do some sort of spell to revive the paper. Though, in the meantime, Darcy opened the letter she got from Sirius.

_Darcy,_

_It's been long since I've sent you a letter, Darcy. I've been so caught up with finsing different locations and figuring out who is guilty for Harry's placement... I've also heard that you were practicing Legilimency, and I'm not surprised that it came naturally to you. Though, Ophelia did try to explain the crack-theory that Snape had made ─I'm not going to even try to understand it._

_The Black family has had a long line of Legilimens, mostly the females. I know that my cousin was naturally skilled, though she didn't really like using it. Maybe a great-grandmother of mine had the ability, but that's all I really know. Never really bothered to search about it. My family sucked._

_You may have heard that Ophelia's gotten caught up with legal issues for our suck family. I'm hoping, this coming summer, that you'll spend it with me. We'll have Harry over, and we can do family-stuff that I've missed out on both of your childhood._

_I really wish I was there for you lot. We could've been a family, instead of Harry staying with those ignorant muggles. You're mother wasn't like those arses, she actually came from a squib father._

_When we are together, I wish to speak to you in person. Not tell you in letters. I feel that it would clarify everything._

_Love,_

_Your father_

Smiling, Darcy brought the letter up to her lips, and kissed it. Her previous mood was slightly uplifted and she nodded. This was a good ending for the day. She would go to the Great Hall, sit alone at her table and just forget about her life ─

"Darcy?" Harry said, his voice tentative as he walked up the Owlery.

Whipping her head up, Darcy caught the green-eyed boy. She smiled, standing up and brushing the snow off her clothes. "Hey, there."

Letting out a deep breath, Harry cringed. Why was he up her again? Oh, right, he was going to send out a letter... Right.

"So─er," Harry said, "I'm going to...send this letter...to Sirius..."

"Oh, right, of course!" Darcy squeaked, stepping out of Harry's way. She wasn't sure if she should leave, but overruled it and tagged along with him. They've sent letters together bunches of time, why would this time different?

"Just got a letter from Sirius, actually," informed Darcy, cringing. Why'd she sound so awkward?

Harry attached the letter to a school owl, gave it a treat before it flew away, then turned back to Darcy. He walked over to her, and nodded.

"What did he say?" Harry asked.

Darcy shrugged. "Trying to figure out who put you in the Tournament...misses me...all this family stuff."

"Oh, that's nice."

"Yeah."

He couldn't ask her. He couldn't. But he had to. Harry shuffled his feet, galncing at the still Darcy. 

Why weren't they moving─right!

"Wangoballwime?"

The words were so fast, Darcy couldn't even make out what he said.

"Snow numb your tongue?" Darcy said, oblivious.

"D'you — d'you want to go to the ball with me?" said Harry.

Why did he have to go red now?  _Why_?

"Wait, me?"

Harry stared at her, his face filled with worry. Did she already have a date? What if George did ask Darcy to the ball? Harry suddenly felt like the world slowed down, only to witness his failure to asking Darcy.

"Sure!" rushed Darcy, though her words were very loud and Harry winced.

"Oh, okay," said Harry, though his voice was monotone. Clearing his throat he said more cheerfully, "Yeah! That's great!"

Darcy smiled at his attempt of not being in  _total shock_. The two walked back down the stairs of the Owlery, Darcy's cheeks reddening, though not from the cold.

Harry had been so relieved, he forgot about diner. The two parted ways, one to the Gryffindor common room, the other to the library.

There was also a little skip to her steps─but only a little. She hated admitting that she was so happy to be asked by Harry.


	23. versus

****The library was silent, and all Darcy could do was wonder why Harry asked _her_.

There were plenty of other options. Harry could get any girl he wanted (well, a lot of girls asked him, but he denied them). Maybe it was because Darcy and Harry had a common family, Sirius. And maybe Harry thought it was easier to just ask her in general. The latter seemed a little more pleasing, though Darcy wasn't sure how she felt for the boy.

Harry was just a boy, who happened to have a lot of targets on his back. Never had Darcy ever imagined being friends with him, or even Hermione and Ron. America barely had any part with Voldemort on his first awakening, since they had dealt a lot of casualties with Grindlewald after his escape in 1928.

Darcy life had always been normal, except for her muteness. She'd been extremely ordinary at America, and being in Europe had changed her life. Darcy wouldn't change it though. The changes were eye-opening, they brought her into a new world.

America had started off rough with No-Majs, in fact, wizards hated them. Though, as time went by, with the Civil Rights Movement in the late sixties, it was clear that the Wizarding community could no longer segregate the two species. Black wizards had experienced the racism in America, and had argued that blood supremacist thoughts were just like racial discrimination.

It was this argument that endured Darcy to be intrigued by different cultures of the world. She read up on so many schools, that she dreamed to even be apart of the Global Confederation.

Darcy loved change now, though. SHe liked that things were moving at its course, to cave in a better world. She loved Ophelia for opening up Darcy's world in Europe. Just in general, Darcy was in love with her new life. She wasn't  _mute_ , she wasn't  _ignorant._

She wasn't alone for the  _Yule Ball_.

"I''VE HEARD THE NEWS!" Hermione had yelled, right when Darcy walked out of the library.

Like a wave, Darcy was tipped back by the weight of Hermione in her hug. Hermione was sniffling, just like she did when Harry and Ron had made up.

"It's great! So great!" Hermione said, letting go of the hug. "I just, I thought you were going with George for a moment--but--but George had asked Jani! And then Ron--the poor fellow--asked Fleur barely half an hour ago!"

Darcy stared wide-eyed at Hermione. " _Ron asked Fleur_?"

"Oh, yeah," Hermione stiffed, though she was trying not to giggle. "It was horride. Ginny brought Ron into the Common Room right after Harry told me he asked you...Ron was compelled, because she was part-veela. Serves him right." Hermione snickered.

"But that's terrible," Darcy commented, her eyes dancing with humor. She'd heard how Ron managed to piss off Hermione about his subjective sexist comments about women.

The two had chatted at the Great Hall, everyone completely forgetting that Ron had asked Fleur. Cedric and Jani were sitting next to each other, their faces bright, when suddenly Darcy felt her head─

 _Jani Scamander_  was the eldest daughter of Atticus and Sandra Scamander and the sister of Rolf Scamander. The two were keen on their animals, just as their grandfather was and just how their father was. Jani would be finishing her years at Hogwarts and pursuing a job with Beast Care in the Ministry.

There was also the Beaxbatons seventh year student, sitting alongside Fleur Delacour with questioning eyes and concern. Her name was Phille Fleamont, her eyes a striking green that contrasted with her long and intense black hair. Her affliction was with Cedric Diggory, and apparently was very keen on him.

Darcy had had enough. She blinked, staring at her plate as though it was a foreign object. She'd tried to re-encounter what she just did, then internally groaned. If Snape had ever heard about her accidentally slipping up, she wouldn't hear the end of it.

Thankfully Hermione and the rest of the Gryffindors she was sitting with didn't notice. Her short intrusion was grateful, but as time went by to the next few weeks, Darcy found it harder to not become a little curious of the seventh years's minds she's just read.

Of course, Sirius wasn't left out of this gift of hers. He had explained that her skill could be useful in the future, and that maybe she could find out who put Harry's name in the Goblet. It was a little far-fetched, and not the answer Darcy was hoping for. Maybe a letter of concern and praise for even practicing the skill.

Darcy found herself a little depressed when the term had ended. There were so many students that were staying for Christmas break, it was a little overwhelming to see friends chat with each other in the Slytherin common rooms.

Last year, Darcy had came into Hogwarts during the Christmas break. She'd taken advantage of the almost empty Slytherin common room. There was another boy, Theodore Nott, that has stayed, but they never even bothered to speak to each other.

Now, she saw that Theodore wasn't alone at all. He and Tracey Davis were talking, Gemma Fawley sitting right next to her on the leather couch. The latter was staring longingly at Nott, but soon felt the eyes of Darcy.

Quickly, Darcy stared back to the floor. The Black lake that was above them didn't cast a green glow, but a warm yellow. She liked the change, but preferred it if it was only her in the common room.

The fire that Darcy sat next to was warm, but as she read Sirius's letter, Darcy actually did receive the concern.

" _Don't push yourself...I'm very proud that you were able to practice the skill...love Sirius_ ," Darcy mumbled to herself, her hands tracing the paper with her fingers. She rather liked the paper Sirius used, as it sort of gave her something to hold onto as a memory.

"Talking to yourself, lunatic?" a boy's voice said with a grunt as he sat right across from her. It was Blaise Zabini. He had nice dark skin that complemented the light with hazel nut eyes. His uniform was still on, and it reminded Darcy of her sickly house.

His comment was too friendly, as they've never once spoken to each other like this.

Eyeing Zabini, Darcy said, "I'm only reading a letter."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Who could it be from?" he said, though it wasn't as taunting as Darcy thought it would be. "Could it be...hmm... _Saint Potter_?"

Snapping her eyes upwards with a steely gaze, she said, "I don't see how it's your business--now, don't  _you_ want to go to the  _little ferret_?"

Pursing his lips, he shrugged off the comment with an apprehensive look. "Look, I didn't come to fight."

"Sure."

Darcy folded her letter and carefully placed inside the jean of her pocket.

"I wanted to say," Zabini said, "that your outburst was really...eye-opening."

Her eyes looked at him like he was joking, though, she gave it some thought. Zabini came from a woman that was widowed seven times, and was immensely rich. He wasn't someone Darcy would pinpoint as open to equality. Though, Darcy focused on his inner personality. It was filled of...himself.

Darcy coughed skeptically. "That's great, Zabini." From the corner of her eyes, she saw that Malfoy was sitting by himself, and staring intently at the two. "I'm sure the ferret wants your company back," she added, still a little apprehensive about his overall persona─which didn't look good.

Zabini glanced over at Malfoy, then back to Darcy. He stood up, and offered a hand to her. She dissmissed the hand and stood on her own.

He pulled back, and coughed.

"Look, Black," Zabini sighed, his eyes heavy. "If you ever need a friend, don't be afraid to ask."

"Are you trying to be nice?"

Zabini glared at her. "Yes, I'm just sayin─this is your house. You shouldn't be so lonely and silent."

Darcy hesitated, not sure how to respnd. Why did he care who she hung around with? Then...she realized.

"Oh," sneered Darcy. "I know what this is about─you don't want me to fraternize with Gyrffindor. I bet you Slytherin's are so hell-bent on keeping that rivalry!"

With that, Darcy huffed and glared at him, leaving to her dorm.

She really didn't understand this hate between the houses. She's never seen and felt such a growing disdain that radiating between Slytherin and Gryffindor (and the addition mistrust from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.)

It only made Darcy want to change it.


	24. versus pt. 2

****Ophelia had scoured New York, her hand clenched around Remus as her stress ball.

"I can't believe I waited last minute for this," grumbled Ophelia, her free hand pushing her blonde hair back.

Remus eyed the shops around him. He had never seen the amount of buildings as he had until that day. New York had touring buildings, nothing compared to what he's seen in London. There were shops, like "Macy's," "Nordstroms," and "Kate Spade." All were so exotic, Remus didn't know how American's could form such...fitting names.

"What about that small store?" Remus pointed to the Nordstroms store. "Simple enough. And beautiful."

Smiling brightly at him, she leaned over and placed a kiss on his cheek.

. . .  
Sometime before the Yule Ball, Harry had to explain to his unlucky friend that he had gotten himself a date.

Entering the common room, Harry looked around, and to his surprise he saw Ron sitting ashen-faced in a distant corner. Ginny was sitting with him, talking to him in what seemed to be a low, soothing voice.

"What's up, Ron?" said Harry, joining them with a wild grin on his face.

Ron looked up at Harry, a sort of blind horror in his face.

"Why did I do it?" he said wildly. "I don't know what made me do it!"

"What?" said Harry, this time his mouth frowning.

"He — er — just asked Fleur Delacour to go to the ball with him," said Ginny. She looked as though she was fighting back a smile, but she kept patting Ron's arm sympathetically.

"You  _what_?" said Harry incredulously.

"I don't know what made me do it!" Ron gasped again. "What was I playing at? There were people — all around — I've gone mad — everyone watching! I was just walking past her in the entrance hall — she was standing there talking to Diggory — and it sort of came over me — and I asked her!"

He kept talking, though the words were barely distinguishable.

"She looked at me like I was a sea slug or something. Didn't even answer. And then — I dunno — I just sort of came to my senses and ran for it."

Harry had no idea what to say, as he lucked out with Darcy. He couldn't relate to Ron's embarrassment at the moment and stared at Ginny unsure.

"She must be part veela," said Harry. "You were right — her grandmother was one. It wasn't your fault, I bet you just walked past when she was turning on the old charm for Diggory and got a blast of it — but she was wasting her time. He's going with Cho Chang."

Ron looked up.

"Oh, uhm," Harry coughed, "I just found out through some people."

"This is mad," said Ron. "We're the only ones left who haven't got anyone — well, except Neville. Hey — guess who he asked?  _Hermione_!"

"What?" said Harry, completely distracted by this startling news.

"Yeah, I know!" said Ron, some of the color coming back into his face as he started to laugh. "He told me after Potions! Said she's always been really nice, helping him out with work and stuff —but she told him she was already going with someone. Ha! As if! She just didn't want to go with Neville . . . I mean, who would?"

"Don't!" said Ginny, annoyed. "Don't laugh —"

Just then Hermione climbed in through the portrait hole.

"Why weren't you two at dinner?" she said, coming over to join them.

"Because — oh shut up laughing, you two — because they've both just been turned down by girls they asked to the ball!" said Ginny.

That shut Harry and Ron up.

"Well, I have a date," said Harry indignantly. Then to Ron, he gave a sympathetic look. "Turns out George didn't ask Darcy."

Ron stared at Harry, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Great, now I'm the dateless one."

Hermione swiftly glanced at Harry, a look of excitement in her eyes.

"All the good-looking ones taken, Ron?" said Hermione loftily. "Eloise Midgen starting to look quite pretty now, is she? Well, I'm sure you'll find someone  _somewhere_ who'll have you."

But Ron was staring at Hermione as though suddenly seeing her in a whole new light.

"Hermione, Neville's right — you are a girl. . . ."

"Oh well spotted," she said acidly.

"Well — you can come with one of us!"

"No, I  _can't_ ," snapped Hermione.

"Oh come on," he said impatiently, "we need partners, we're going to look really stupid if we haven't got any, everyone else has . . ."

"I can't come with you," said Hermione, now blushing, "because I'm already going with someone."

"No, you're not!" said Ron. "You just said that to get rid of Neville!"

"Oh did I?" said Hermione, and her eyes flashed dangerously. "Just because it's taken you three years to notice, Ron, doesn't mean no one else has spotted I'm a girl!"

Harry stared wide-eyed at Ron as he grinned.  _What the hell is he thinking?_

"Okay, okay, we know you're a girl," he said. "That do? Will you come now?"

"I've already told you!" Hermione said very angrily. "I'm going with someone else! Now, I'm going to find Darcy--oh, and, congrats, Harry. I'm real happy you asked her."

Then, she crawled her way out of the portrait hole.

"She's lying," said Ron flatly, watching her go.

"She's not," said Ginny quietly.

. . .

Harry tried his best to match his best friend with someone, but it appeared that even Parvati and Lavender were taken. The day after Harry asked Darcy, he went to her again, this time to ask:

"Have you known anyone that doesn't have a date?" he said desperately. "Ron doesn't have a date, and I feel really bad to leave him hanging..."

Darcy was a little startled, but she recovered quickly and hugged her books tighter. She did hear about how Ron pestered Hermione and felt a sour taste in her mouth.

"I don't," said Darcy, though she was very unsure. "I mean, if he wants to go with a Slytherin..." Gemma Fawley had crossed Darcy's mind and how alone she had looked the night alone.

Harry was skeptical, but Darcy threw him a glare. "Serves Ron right for not having a date. If he gets a date, he better adorn the girl like she's god."

Sighing, Harry nodded. Ron had been very insensitive when it came to asking girls out.

"I don't know," said Harry. "You know how Ron is with Slytherins. He thinks your the exception because of Sirius, but...he's real difficult, Darcy. I don't want to lose him again."

Darcy pursed her lips, and stared at the Great Hall in front of them. This was the problem she wanted to fix...this mistrust between the houses.

Then, sternly, she said, "Then he'll have to deal. As does Gemma."

. . .

And since Ron had refused to go with fellow Slytherin, Gemma Fawley, he was feeling rather grumpy. Though, Darcy had scorned Ron for waiting so long, for judging a girl by her looks.

"You're going with Gemma," said Darcy, her voice authoritative. "I struck a very,  _very_ difficult deal with her to go with you and I'm going to back out of it!"

Darcy didn't mention what deal she made, but continued onto her breakfast nonetheless.

Harry really couldn't relate to Ron. He was lucky to go with Darcy, happy even. Sirius and bought him his dress robes, and even hinted that Ophelia's dress wasn't even bought until three days before the ball.

Sirius had been very calm about Harry asking Darcy to the ball. Said that Ophelia was just out of country to get the dress. Darcy had even read Harry's letter during breakfast, and let out a relieved and excited sigh.

"I really can't wait," whispered Darcy, her eyes scanning the letter. "This would be the first time Philly's gone back to America. She's been missing it a lot...I miss it. Though, we lived far from New York—you know, Remus has gone with her?"

Hermione's face lit up. "Are they together yet?"

"No," Darcy said without thinking, shaking her head. "Reckon it's too fast for them, I think."

Harry looked at Darcy questioningly. "How so? It's been over a decade."

Darcy's cheeks flushed as though she said something that was personal. "Oh...well, you know that Ophelia and your dad were—it—love, but it's just...Remus doesn't want to intrude—feels like it's too quick—"

"That's absurd!" Hermione laughed, though he gave a skeptical glance at Darcy that Harry didn't understand. "Ophelia's gotten all cheerful. Remember, Darcy? Our last class with her, she even went into why shopping malls are such a big part of muggle culture."

Darcy nodded, a smile on her face. "Well, it's not just for no-maj— _muggles_. Some seniors at Ilvermorny really enjoyed their ability to apparate to the Pentagon Mall in D.C."

Ron glanced questionably at her. "What's a Pentagon Mall?"

Throughly annoyed, Hermione said, "It's just a mall, shaped like a pentagon."

Darcy switched her eyes over to Ron, who was still a little confused. Coughing, she said. "Are you have trouble on what a pentagon is, or a mall?"

He moved his eyes to Ron, who blushed at Darcy's question. He knew what a mall was. He used to go there with the Dursley's when he was younger. Though, Harry never heard of a "pentagon" mall.

"Never mind, if all your going to do is lecture me," Ron grumbled, stabbing his plate of scrambled eggs.

Staring at Ron for a while with a intimidating gaze, Darcy turned herself back to Hermione and Harry.

"I'll be heading back to my table," she announced, glancing over at Ron again. "I'm sure Gemma would like to hear that her  _date_ is happy to go to the dance with her."

Harry watched Darcy leave to her Slytherin table, and sit next to a ashy-haired girl. Around them, was a blonde girl and twins that were lingering on the side-lines. Harry realized that Darcy's group contrasted against Pansy's by appearance.

Something that Hermione said broke Harry's attention.

"Hmm?" he said, glancing back to Hermione.

"It's nice, isn't it?" she repeated, her eyes following over to Darcy. "She's gotten some friends. Nice that they aren't with Malfoy's."

Ron snorted. "Should've seen the blonde one. I saw down the corridor for Binns, hugging Nott like he was a prince or something."

Hermione gave him a stink eye. "So? Maybe he asked her to the dance. Unlike  _someone."_

"I'm just trying to say that everyone is a part of Malfoys group."

Hermione threw a glare at Ron, but long since forgotten later that day. It was the end of term, all they had to worry about was the Yule Ball...


	25. last minute

 

It was Christmas day, and Darcy woke up as early as she could.

The dark dormitory was silent, only with the soft silence of Tracey's snores. Looking around, Darcy whipped off her covers and got an old pair of leggings and a turtleneck grey dress. She braided a side of her hair, wanting to look presentable in front of her father, Lupin, and Ophelia.

Her feet were about to leave the dorm, but there was another stifle in the bed covers. Turning her head, she saw that Gemma, her mess of dark hair popped from behind the open curtains.

"What are you doing?" Gemma asked, standing up and stretching. She glanced at the clock. "It's five-thirteen!"

Darcy shushed her, and began picking up her presents that were at the edge of her bed. Darcy wondered how they got there, but pushed it aside.

"I'm going to meet my aunt in her office," whispered Darcy, stuffing her gifts into a sack. She felt a little bit like Santa Claus.

Gemma nodded, and saw that she had gifts at the edge of her bed too. Frowning, she picked up the two presents she got and sat on the floor.

"Well," Gemma sighed, looking up to the retreating Darcy, "Happy Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to you too!" said Darcy and she ran down the steps. Then, guilty, she went back to the dorm. "I'll come back around three hours, Gemma."

Smiling, Gemma nodded.

. . .

Darcy made her way through the empty corridors, noticing that only a few students were up. She even caught glance at Jani Scamander, who was eating her breakfast on the staircase Darcy was staying at.

Jani had her hair smoothed back to a flawless braid, her Christmas sweater bright and gifts surrounded the perch she sat at. Her window seat was nicely illuminating her cocoa skin.

A little intimidated, Darcy held her breathe as she walked by. Though, as she walked up the steps, Jani already noticed Darcy.

"Hi there!" Jani said excitingly, dropping a present on her lap. 

Surprised, Darcy's squeaked, "Hey—hey!" She blushed furiously and mentally gave herself a slap. 

With a smile on her face, Jani stood up—she was incredibly tall, like Darcy . "You're Darcy Black, right? I just wanted to say—thanks for putting in a good word for me to George..."

Darcy wanted to say that it was only a coincidence—that Darcy only ever mentioned her because she was  _Newt Scamanders freaking granddaughter_. Darcy had read up to the third year required reading to catch up to what magic was like in Europe (very different from how she grew up).

"No problem," Darcy said quickly, tugging on her sack of gifts. "I've got to go—Merry Christmas, Jani. Can't wait for the dance!"

"Oh yeah!" Jani said, her cheeks flushed. "Heard you were going with Harry Potter—see you then!"

And with that awkward and strangely unfinished talk, Darcy bolted up the stair to Ophelia's office. The sack that she held seemed to get heavier and heavier as she was turning the corner for the office. 

Professor Dumbledore was at the under end of the hall. It was a shock, since the last time Darcy had personally been around the Headmaster was and exact year. 

Smiling, Dumbledore said, "Good morning, Darcy! I see you've got presents." The professor and she had stopped right in front of the muggle studies classroom, Darcy keeping a distance.

"Good morning, Professor," Darcy said, her cheeks flushed. She'd  nearly forgotten that Dumbledore would be there to oversee the meeting with Sirius.

As they walked into the classroom to Ophelia's office, Dumbledore was quite chatty.

"I've explained this to Ophelia, but I'm not so sure that you've gotten a description yet. You see, Sirius is staying from one place to another. I set up a floo network that allows you to speak to him, privately at my command."

Darcy nodded along, knowing that this was similar to the first time Sirius had used this method with Harry and she. 

Ophelia sat near the fire, prodding it with a stick and having a few gifts around her. Her hair was a festive sort: she had mint green strands of hair that faded to a purple all around. It was a nice combination, as the past year Ophelia had been getting much less depressed as Darcy was so used to seeing her. 

Darcy dropped the sack of present on the floor gently, and smiled at Dumbledore and Ophelia. "Merry Christmas, Professor Dumbeldore. I've—I've just realized that I've never thanked you for allowing me to attend Hogwarts...or get you a Christmas gift." At that, Darcy shamefully looked away, glancing at the lone figure sitting at the desk.

Her eyes widened. Lupin was sitting there, a set of chocolates arranged on Ophelia's desk. Darcy could only imagine that Ophelia gave him those.

Back to Dumbledore, he said, "On the contrary, Darcy. I'm sure that loyalty will pay for everything." Although his tone was juggling with humor, there was a hint of premonition that Darcy couldn't help but notice in his head.

Dumbledore stared at her knowingly, as though he knew her secrets. And then, he winked with a tiny smile.

Gaping at him, Darcy said, "You know?"

"Snape had reported to me when you first began the Legilimens classes during the end of your third year. You were very secretive and silent—something that you couldn't help with you muteness. But! Today is Christmas! Enough talk about classes!"

Ophelia smiled up at Dumbledore, having sensed Darcy's uncomfortable situation. "Thank you, Dumbledore, for setting this up."

Darcy had blocked out the entire conversation, taking out all of her three presents that were hers and the other few that she had gotten Ophelia, Sirius, and the trio. She also made a mental note to not be late for breakfast so she could meet up with Hermione.

"...he will be showing up pretty soon—ah, I see a spark!" Dumbledore's voice said from behind her. 

Darcy sat next to Ophelia, who was closest to the fire. And indeed, the fire in front of them sputtered green and red and blue. Darcy perked as she saw the dark hair and healthier face of her father show up with more definition than last time.

"Sirius!" Ophelia said happily, her eyes twinkling. "Happy Christmas!"

Lupin stood up from his place, and sat down the opposite side of Ophelia. He greeted Sirius.

"Where's Darcy? How're you lot?" rang Sirius's voice.

Darcy was a little shocked, not knowing how to behave around Sirius. She wasn't sure how to address her  _father_  with either, "Hi, dad!" or "Hello, Sirius!" She thought the latter was unnecessary, but she also didn't spend much time with Sirius to really feel like he was her dad.

Coughing, Darcy waved and scooted closer to the fire, glancing back at Dumbledore who sat at Ophelia's chair.

"I'm here," Darcy said meekly, shifting with the gifts she had for them. "Merry Christmas!" Darcy awkwardly held up a gift, and looked around.

(To be honest, Darcy thought it would only be her and Ophelia. Lupin was fine—a great teacher—but with the sudden realization that Ophelia liked the man, Darcy felt a little awkward. Plus, Dumbledore.)

Sirius's face lit up, his mouth upturned with a wide smile. "There's my girl," he said. "Happy Christmas to you—Professor Dumbledore—thank you, very much for allowing me to meet with my family."

Dumbledore smiled heart fully. "No problem, Sirius," he said and stood up. "I'll be moving along. Have a great holiday!"

When the door shut behind the Headmaster, Sirius burst, "Brilliant you are, Darce!"

Remus and Ophelia flinched, both glancing at each other. Darcy didn't mind them, her attention was now on her father.

Smiling wide, Darcy said in question, "For what?"

Ophelia shook her head. "Now, Sirius—I don't think its appropriate to mention that!"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "She's got her mothers charms—alright,  _fine_ , Philly!" he said. Then, facing Darcy, he explained, "I'll tell you this, Harry Potter's the best you can get, Darcy!"

Blushing, Darcy glanced at Lupin and Ophelia. Her gaze went to the box of gifts. "Well, we're only fourteen," she said quickly and picked up a gift. "So! Presents?"

And the talk of Harry and anything else that concerned Darcy's life was pushed aside. She asked Sirius about the place that Ophelia was trying to get. It was their old home, this Darcy knew, but Sirius was much more sour than Ophelia.

Remus commented that the majority of their teenage years were spent at the Potters. Ophelia pursed her lips, and shut that talk down (for now, Darcy was going to let it slip. Maybe another time when they had  _more_ time.)

The presents that Darcy gave were very much in a rush. She got Sirius a chipped piece of her necklace into the form of a ring (she knew that he had a thing for rings). Ophelia received an assortment of muggle books. Lupin also received another basket of chocolates (and a mistletoe that Darcy levitated above Lupin and Ophelia. They hadn't noticed yet).

Sirius was happy to see that Darcy use her hand magic so easily. Though, he kept his mouth shut when he realized it was a mistletoe she was levitating.

Darcy, in return, was given candies from Honeydukes from Lupin. He remembered that she liked the sour fishes and the spicy dragon wings. Sirius commented that he used to bring spicy stuff to Anna-Marie. Ophelia gave Darcy a box, saying it was her dress that Remus so gratefully picked. 

Laslty, it was Sirius, who was gleaming from the fire. He gave her a necklace that alerted her when danger was approaching. Though, he didn't give it to her personally, he had Ophelia retrieve it before Christmas. Darcy was happy, thanking everyone.

She was in a rush too. Darcy saw that the clock pointed at seven. She stayed a little while though, listening to Sirius give his grievances to them. 

But, Darcy had to go. She promised to hang around with Gemma for awhile and explained to Sirius the whole ordeal with Ron.

With a heavy heart, Darcy darted off with her sack of gifts  —not before she lowered the mistletoe to view and left the office. 

Ophelia turned her head upwards and blushed. 

"Is she—did Darcy do that!" she said, pointing at the mistletoe.

Lupin looked up as well, and his eyes widened. He looked over at Sirius, who was smiling like a proud dad (which, he was).

"My daughter's brilliant," Sirius proudly stated. "I'm pretty sure you guys have to kiss."

"Shut up, Sirius," Ophelia said.

When the three discussed matters that were much more important, Sirius bid farewell and the two did in fact kiss.

 

 


	26. yule ball

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATED CAST:
> 
> GEMMA FAWLEY ; AMANDLA STENBERG
> 
> JANI SCAMANDER ; LEIGH-ANNE PINNOCK
> 
> DARCY BLACK ; no actress

 

Gemma was waiting in the common room, dressed in a Christmas sweater and a thick coat. She saw the slumping body of Darcy come through the entrance of the Slytherin common room with a sack on her back.

"Hey there," Gemma said as she saw the sack, "Santa."

Darcy rolled her eyes, but there was a smile in her face. "I'll meet you down her in a few minutes -gotta change!"

. . .

The two girls sat around, snacking on the candies Lupin had given her and talked about everyone in the Slytherin house. It was packed in the common room, but it was also loud.

"So, Pansy and Malfoy?" asked Darcy, still tugging on a sweater and the same colorful windbreaker she wore at the World cup over her t-shirt.

Gemma scoffed. "I bet all the decent girls in this house were taken so he  _had_  to ask Parkinson," she said.

A little surprised that Gemma also had a disliking to Malfoy, Darcy regained herself and smiled.

"Well, I heard from Ron that Tracey's going with Theodore Nott," Darcy said, looking around and spotting Nott sit with Zambini. "Funny, really -I saw him last Christmas break, alone. Never really struck me as the type to be around a group like Malfoy's."

"Well, he isn't," said Gemma, her eyes darting to the same boy. "He's just -like you said, alone. His dad was a Death Eater in You-Know-Who's first terror. He just wants to be different."

Raising her eybrows, Darcy turned over to Gemma. "Shocking," she said dully, and stuffed another spicy wing in her mouth. "How do you know? That he isn't like the others? Have you stalked him?"

"We used to be friends," Gemma brushed off. "It's almost lunch -and no! I don't  _stalk_ him."

Darcy nodded, her eyes twinkling with knowing. "I'm kidding -by the way, just so you know, Nott doesn't really like Tracey. Only asked her to please his father - and that's as far as I'll look, Gemma."

 _And that was the deal_. Darcy had admitted to taking after school classes with Snape -something that Gemma was smart enough to notice. So, in return for going to the Yule Ball with Ron, Gemma asked in return that Darcy would find out about Theodore's well-being.

It was something that Darcy was warned not to do -to look though a students mind. But, Darcy told herself that it wasn't breaking the law. Gemma just wanted to know how Theodore was doing.

"Oh," Gemma said, her voice small with hope. "Thank you, Darcy. He just isn't talking to me anymore...so I got a little worried."

Tightly, Darcy smiled.

. . .

After a quick lunch with Gemma, Darcy excused herself to go to the snow on the grounds.

Sitting on a bench under a snow-covered tree, Hermione was watching the boys throw snow balls. Darcy sat next to her, smiling.

"Not going to join?" said Darcy, her eyes following the Weasley's. Ginny and Fred had teamed against George, Harry and Ron.

Hermione shook her head. "No. My hair get's really bushy when I shower."

Waving a hand, Darcy collected a bunch of snowballs to her command and sat them on the ground beside her.

"You sure you don't want to through just  _one_?"

"Just go on, Darce. I know  _you_ want to."

Darcy was already packing her snowballs in her hands and went to join Ginny and Fred.

"Saw you guys were taken short!" Darcy laughed, handing out the snowballs to the two red-heads.

The six threw snowballs, and after a while, Darcy was hit in the back by George. She cursed, and gave him a finger. Then, she went along to build a variation of snow-mans near Hermione.

Around five o'clock, Hermione said she was going back upstairs to get ready for the ball. Darcy agreed as well, excited to see the dress Ophelia -and Remus -got her.

"What, you need three hours?" said Ron, looking at her incredulously and paying for his lapse in concentration when a large snowball, thrown by George, hit him hard on the side of the head. "Who're you going with?" he yelled after Hermione, but she just waved and disappeared up the stone steps into the castle. 

"He's still going on about that?" Darcy said.

Hermione nodded. "I just ignore it. He's such a child, honestly."

The two separated to their own ways. Darcy headed down to her dorm, and picked up the box that Ophelia handed her.

Inside was a lavender-colored dress. It's lightness was undeniably beautiful when folded, already revealing patterns of small delicate flowers. The dress was a v-neck -delicate and appropriate -that had a see-through mesh, darker material. The tiny flowers were delicately and precisely placed around the torso, and spread out on to the skirt of the dress.

Darcy was both relieved and amazed. She almost rejected the idea of Lupin choosing the dress. (But if Lupin did take a liking to Ophelia, then he must've chosen the dress because of the  _color_ ).

"That's beautiful," said a voice behind her -Tracey, whom was accompanied by Gemma.

Darcy, midway into the french braid, paused and smiled at the two when they went to their beds.

Tracey laid out a elegant puffy pastel pink dress. She easily pulled on the dress, explaining that she was going to the next dorm.

Gemma was left behind, and she stared, lost, at the ground.

"I have no idea what to do," she said. "I haven't got the slightest of where to start."

Done with the one-side french braid, Darcy said, "Do your hair -and makeup if that's what you do."

"Makeup?" said Gemma, her cheeks flushed. "I have no idea how to do that!"

"Oh, well," said Darcy. She examined Gemma's face, which was completely flawless. "I don't think you need makeup. You're skin is really smooth...My mascara could work on you...maybe a little blush?"

"You'd help me?" Gemma excitedly said. "Oh that's so nice!"

Darcy did everything she could to please Gemma. She already had her tan neck-high dress on that made her look extremely tall, even though she was a few inches shorter than Darcy. When done, Gemma was hugging Darcy tightly.

"You're welcome," laughed Darcy, patting Gemma's back. "Now -I'm pretty sure my lungs are getting crushed."

"Wow! I'm just -" Gemma breathed out, " -it's great -you're great!"

Darcy shook her head and laughed. "Let's head down and show off  _you_  off. You look like a million bucks!"

"Oh, stop!" Gemma hushed, blushing.

. . .

The Slytheirn's had stared oddly at Darcy and Gemma. Most fourth to seventh years had paired themselves with only Slytherins, only a handful-including Darcy and Gemma-had dates outside of the house.

Though, a nagging boy's thoughts caught Darcy's attention as she walked out of the Slyhterin common room with Gemma. Nott was behind them, and his emotions were so strong that Darcy couldn't help but turn her head to see his face.

He was staring directly at her, and their eyes met. Quickly, Darcy held on tight to Gemma's arm. The massive group of Slytherins made their way past them.

"I don't know if I want to spend my time with Weasley," said Gemma, her face etched with worry. Her seemed to get frizzier by the moment...

In a hurry, Darcy patted down the remaining fly-away hairs. "I'll stick by you, Gemma. Right after that champions dance thing."

As if on cue, Harry had made his way over to the two girls. He fixed his hair and breathed out, "For a moment I thought you were..." he stared at Darcy for a while, "...late..."

Darcy stared worryingly at Harry's hair and Gemma's. "You both have the  _worst_  hair to deal with it!" cried Darcy, moving away a strand of Harry's hair and Gemma's away from their faces. "Oh, and, this is Gemma Fawley-and this is Harry Potter."

"I'm well-aware of who he is, Darcy," said Gemma, her voice nervous as she looked behind Harry to find and equally nervous Ron.

Harry nodded at Gemma. He turned his eyes to Darcy and smiled. "You look great, Darce-"

Professor McGonagall's voice interrupted, "Champions over here, please!"

Darcy pulled a face and waved good-bye to Gemma and Ron.

Professor McGonagall, who was wearing dress robes of red tartan and had arranged a rather ugly wreath of thistles around the brim of her hat, told them to wait on one side of the doors while everyone else went inside; they were to enter the Great Hall in procession when the rest of the students had sat down. Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies stationed themselves nearest the doors; Davies looked so stunned by his good fortune in having Fleur for a partner that he could hardly take his eyes off her. Cedric and Cho were close to Harry too; he looked away from them so he wouldn't have to talk to them. His eyes fell instead on the girl next to Krum. His jaw dropped.

"Hermione!" said Darcy excitedly, breaking away from Harry's side. Darcy made her way over to hug the girl. "You look  _fantastic_!"

Dazzling smiling with a new pair of front teeth, Hermione said, "Hi, Harry-thank you, Darce!"

Once everyone else was settled in the Hall, Professor McGonagall told the champions and their partners to get in line in pairs and to follow her. They did so, and everyone in the Great Hall applauded as they entered and started walking up toward a large round table at the top of the Hall, where the judges were sitting.

The walls of the Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The House tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people.

Darcy knew Harry was incredibly nervous about tripping over his feet.

"It's okay, Harry," said Darcy as they began dancing-and then he tripped. Laughing, Darcy pulled him back up, and held tight to his back.

"So sorry," Harry gasped, his cheeks flushed. "I never took McGonagall's lessons seriously."

Darcy and he took the dancing slow, every now and then he would slip up, but Darcy would make so it seemed she stepped on his shoe to share the embarrassment.

When the first dance was done, Darcy would say she was a little glad that the attention was gone.

"Y'know," she said as they sat down next to Harry-who was next to Percy, "I'm really hoping that Davies over there doesn't start to drool on his food."

Though, her words seemed to be drowned by Percy's own boasting. Darcy went over to look around, noticing Jani Scamander was eating along next to George, Angelina and Fred. She had a fitting dress, and her eyes always seeming to gaze at the Champions table to where Cedric was.

Then, Darcy heard Viktor Krum talk to Hermione so enthusiastically about how Durmstrang looked like. It was Karkaroff that splintered that happy talk, and Dumbledore's questions that seemed to rear the talk of different schools.

"Well, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, displaying his yellowing teeth to their fullest extent, "we are all protective of our private domains, are we not? Do we not jealously guard the halls of learning that have been entrusted to us? Are we not right to be proud that we alone know our school's secrets, and right to protect them?"

Darcy straightened her back, staring intently between Dumbeldore and Karkaroff.

"Oh I would never dream of assuming I know all Hogwarts' secrets, Igor," said Dumbledore amicably. "Only this morning, for instance, I took a wrong turning on the way to the bathroom and found myself in a beautifully proportioned room I have never seen before, containing a really rather magnificent collection of chamber pots. When I went back to investigate more closely, I discovered that the room had vanished. But I must keep an eye out for it. Possibly it is only accessible at five-thirty in the morning. Or it may only appear at the quarter moon - or when the seeker has an exceptionally full bladder."

Harry snorted into his plate of goulash. Percy frowned, but Darcy could've sworn that Dumbledore winked at she and Harry.

Meanwhile Fleur Delacour was criticizing the Hogwarts decorations to Roger Davies.

"Zis is nothing," she said dismissively, looking around at the sparkling walls of the Great Hall. "At ze Palace of Beauxbatons, we 'ave ice sculptures all around ze dining chamber at Chreestmas. Zey do not melt, of course . . . zey are like 'uge statues of diamond, glittering around ze place. And ze food is seemply superb. And we 'ave choirs of wood nymphs, 'oo serenade us as we eat. We 'ave none of zis ugly armor in ze 'alls, and eef a poltergeist ever entaired into Beauxbatons, 'e would be expelled like zat." She slapped her hand onto the table impatiently.

"It's interesting actually," said Darcy, her voice meant only for Harry, but it seemed that she attracted the entire table.

Dumbledore clapped. "Oh! You'll love this-Darcy, could you tell us about your old school?"

Darcy stared wide-eyed at Harry and then to the table. Clearing her throat, Darcy nodded meekly around the table.

"Oh, I was going to tell Harry how interesting-and great-it is to have foreign schools meet together," Darcy started off and glance over at Hermione, who gave her a motion to go on. "And, well, Ilvermorny's kind of like Hogwarts, actually. We've got a castle that is on top of a  _beautiful_  mountain. There's forests...that can go on for miles...Sometimes during Christmas time-uh, we would go out and pick a Christmas tree in the forests. It was a little house competition we did-the winning house would decorate it..."

Cedric took the opportunity to say, "What houses were they?"

Darcy blushed, and smiled meekly. "Oh, there's Pukwudgie, and they represented the heart; Thunderbird, the soul; Horned Serpent, the mind; and Wampus, the body..."

"And thees 'ouses are similar like 'ogwartz?" Fleur questioned.

"Oh, no-take Horned Serpent-they like the scholars, and that's what Ravenclaw is like, right? So the sort of  _creature_  that represent the houses don't correspond with the Hogwarts houses..."

Cho Change, adorned in a tan and golden dress stared keenly at Darcy.

"Were you in Horned Snake-oh sorry, Serpent?" she asked.

"No, no..." Darcy said, her eyes narrowing. "I was in Pukwudgie." She was slightly defensive of her Slytherin house now.

The table had preceded onto their conversations. Darcy turned over to Harry, and put a hand over her face.

"They really put me on the spot there, didn't they?" Darcy groaned, though she had a small smile on her face.

"You should've heard Hermione trying to teach Krum how to say her name!" Harry spluttered in quiet laughter.

Darcy smiled widely. "Oh I can't imagine with the accent!"

" _Herm-own-ninny_ ," Harry whispered, scooting closer to Darcy. "I think Hermione just gave up."

Just as the Weird Sisters-a group Darcy had never heard from in America-Darcy stood up, and looked around for Gemma and Ron. She spotted, them, deep in a rather heated conversation with passive and stone faces.

Tugging Harry's sleeve, Darcy whispered, "We should probably ask them to dance-oh god-Gem looks like she's going to pound the boy!"

Harry did see that Ron's cheeks were tinted in red and Gemma's face was set in stone.

"Right-jeez, he have to dance  _again_?" Harry said, glancing around to see who was watching the two. So far, Harry was happy to see no one was.

Quicker than Harry imagined, he was already on the dance floor, with Darcy right in front of him.

"Where's they go?" Harry yelled, looking around as he took Darcy's hand in his. It was a bold move for him, and at the moment he didn't really mind.

"Oh, they went off before I could reach them..."said Darcy, looking over her shoulder.

Harry spotted his friend and Gemma dancing along with the rest of the students. Ginny was dancing with Neville and the young red-head would cringe whenever her feet were stepped on.

The sight in front of Harry was quite a delight. Darcy was smiling, talking to him and asking him how the tasks were doing. He appreciated the concern, and liked how Darcy wasn't pushing him. 

Darcy wasn't a feign for dancing-as she didn't listen to this kind of music-but this was a tough year for Harry. So, she pulled through and went along with the beat. At one point, she even spotted Hermione and went along to dance with her, twirling her around.

Then it was George and Jani that were suddenly next to Darcy and she lost Harry in the crowd. She had a fun time, and her heart was racing from all the dancing.

"You look great, Jani," said Darcy loudly with a smile. The music was blazing loud and the students and teachers around were giving Darcy a headache.

Jani was pushing George away with a laugh, trying to answer to Darcy. "Thanks! You look great too!"

Darcy nodded on acknowledgement, weakly smiling and pushing through the crowd. Her eyes were flashing with images and memories that weren't hers. Sometimes there would be the sight of classrooms and and the grounds.

Spotting two of Harry's, Darcy plopped herself down next to him and groaned.

"I lost you," she said, her breath heavy and her eyes blinking rapidly.

"There was a lot of people," Harry lied, his eyes wandering over to her sweaty face and tousled short hair. She still looked great in his opinion. He just wasn't comfortable dancing, it wasn't his strongest suit.

"Definitely," Darcy deadpanned and waved a hand over her face. "I almost passed out in there."

He eyed her face, which was as pale as the snow outside. Standing up, Harry offered a napkin he nicked off the table and handed it to her.

"I'll go grab you something to drink," he said. "Punch or water?"

Darcy gave him a grateful look. "Water would be fine, thank you."

She watched him go through the crowds and disappear. Darcy sighed, scrunching her eyes, still seeing the flashes of images that don't belong to her.

Two bodies snapped Darcy out of her trance. Gemma and Ron were red-faced, though not angry. 

"Next time don't challenge me to a dance-off," said Gemma her face proud as she sat next to Darcy.

Ron glowered. "Yeah, not like  _I_ was the one challenging you!"

"Then why did you lose?"

"Because Fred and George had pushed me in," Ron hissed. "I haven't got an ounce of knowing how to dance!"

Gemma smirked, grabbing her previous plate of food. Then, she looked st Darcy's sickly face.

"Whoa, Darcy," Gemma said, placing a hand over Darcy's forehead and pulling back when it was burning. Gemma said in a low voice, "What's the matter?"

Darcy waved them off, feeling as though if she spoke she would throw up. When Harry came back with the water, Darcy took a sip, feeling a little better by the minute.

"What happened?" Harry asked, making Ron move over to sit near Gemma and taking a seat. Harry placed a hand over Darcy's back and narrowed his eyes at the mildly hot temperature of her skin.

"Oh nothing," Darcy said. "It's just...a small...headache."

Okay, the memories she was seeing weren't painful, but they were increasingly annoying. And maybe her skin was undeniably high because she was sweaty from dancing and mildly embarrassed about the attention.

She downed the rest of the water, along with the ice chunks, and smiled at everyone around her. There were still the flashing whispers and visions of the students around her, but this wasn't going to prevent her from having a nice time.

Though, Hermione came over and sat down next to Harry. She was also a little pink from dancing.

"Hi there," Harry said. Ron didn't say a word, though.

"It's hot, isn't it?" said Hermione, fanning herself with her hand just as Darcy was. "Viktor's gone to get some drinks. Oh-Darcy, you okay?" (Darcy nodded and grabbed Harry's water to drink).

Gemma also handed her water over to Darcy.

" _Viktor_?" Ron said, a tone that made the two Slytherin girls snap their heads over to him. "Hasn't he asked you to call him Vicky yet?"

Darcy stared blankly at the boy, then over to a surprised Hermione.

"What's up with you?" Hermione said.

Darcy peaked a little further into Ron's emotions, feeling a deep angst that radiated off of him. She flinched, realizing the events that were leading up to his attitude.

Gemma had clung onto Darcy as Ron had repeatedly accused Hermione of "fraternizing with the enemy". Darcy thought she wanted to stay out of this, but Ron had taken a step far past simple  _jealousy_.

"Ron, stop," said Darcy, sternly. "We were just having a good time a few moments ago-don't say anything you want to regret."

But, the situation was out of her hands. Hermione and Ron were arguing-Harry staring just as surprised through the entire ordeal. A few times, Darcy would catch his eyes, begging for him to calm Ron down, but Harry just simply said nothing.

(Darcy doesn't blame him, though couldn't help but feel a little annoyed -she could feel the rekindled aura from Harry.)

Gemma and Darcy both tried to bring down the outburst, but Hermione had already left them-too quick for Darcy to even chase after her.

"Well, you did it, didn't you,  _Weasley_ ," muttered Gemma, her gaze just as stone as it was during the beginning of the dance. There seemed to be a meaning behind her words as she spoke to Ron.

"Really knew how to make a girl feel  _jealous,_ when really, it was  _you_  that was," snarled Gemma, letting go of Darcy's arm. "Look-Darcy, I'm heading back to the common rooms."

Darcy was left by herself with Harry and Ron, following Gemma's fleeting body go out the Great Hall.

Ron was starstruck, staring at Gemma as well. His mouth was wide, and he had a reluctant look on his face.

Darcy grimly stared at the two boys beside her when she sat down. "Well, that was a great night," she sighed, picking at the dress.

After Krum had asked where Hermione was, Darcy decided to go take a nice walk to try to find her friend. She bid her stiff farewell to Ron and a kiss on the cheek to Harry, pulling a warm coat over her shoulders and headed out.

The snow was no longer icy, but powdery. After her brisk and cold walk, Darcy had looked at the library and asked the Fat Lady about Hermione's whereabouts. The Fat Lady said Hermione was in there, but obviously Daarcy didn't know the password so she moved onto the Slytherin common rooms.

She was sure that the Great Hall was empting out. There were multiple sixth and seventh years that were getting kicked out by Professor Snape.

"Good evening, Professor," said Darcy as kindly as she could. Throughout the meetings, the two were more open-minded about each other. Thus, Darcy didn't dislike him for being a low-level jerk and Snape looked past her being Sirius's daughter and as a  _student_.

Professor Snape nodded back in acknowledgement, though it seemed that he was accompanied by Karkaroff.

Darcy trenched her way over towards the entrance hall, where she saw Cedric Diggory and Cho there nearly making out. They're faces were close to Darcy rolled her eyes and pulled her shawl closer to her and pulled quickly past the two.

Oh god, it was awful- _Darcy could hear their thoughts_  from as far as the Slytherin common rooms.

. . . .

 **THE DRESSES & HAIR **  
DARCY BLACK:

GEMMA FAWLEY:

JANI SCAMANDER:

HERMIONE GRANGER:

 


	27. stupefy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: this is just a "skim through". I wanted to get to the second task real quick. I've also taken en-route of the movie script for figuring out the

 

Darcy was relieved to take the dress off her body and take a hot shower and just  _sleep_.

Though, she was very grumpy the next morning. Apparently, there was a thing called "Boxing Day" and it literally was celebrating the day after Christmas. 

"British people," scoffed Darcy when she sat herself next to Ophelia in her muggle studies classroom. "Maybe I'll have a Boxing Day after my birthday!"

Ophelia sniggered, popping a piece of chocolate in her mouth. "Technically you're British, Darcy," she said, chuckling as she twirled around in her chair. "You were born in London—and then we illegally immigrated into America."

Darcy rolled her eyes. "What the heck is Boxing Day? Another excuse for a holiday?"

"Well, yeah," Ophelia answered, pouting her lips. "Don't tell me you're actually excited about school coming back!"

That was true—the homework that was assigned at the beginning of break was finished and Darcy was eager to start the term. She didn't like that there was so much people here. It felt more like a holiday when you didn't see your school mates.

And, time did come around to Darcy's fifteenth birthday. It was small, and it was not as important as it felt. Hermione had given her a book of foreign schools, Ron a few spicy dragons (she ate them all within ten minutes), and Harry gave her a pair of socks and a book about Quidditch.

"If you want to be the announcer, you gotta know something about Quidditch," Harry explained.

It was helpful, because pretty soon, Lee Jordan was going to leave Hogwarts next year and Darcy really did want to be a commentator.

Hermione and Ron were on good term—something that seemed to appease Gemma and Darcy. And when the first month of January came bustling by, there was the dreadful article about Hagrid she's read. 

"They're awful," whispered Darcy. "... _but Albus Dumbledore surely has a duty to ensure that Harry Potter, along with his fellow students, is warned about the dangers of associating with part-giants_ —what kind of bullshit is this?"

Gemma stared off into the distance, her mouth curved downwards. "Well...it's—I think it's scary to have a part-giant as a teacher..."

"But Hagrid isn't like them! He's 'part'-giant! Not full!"

"It's not that  _Hagrid_  is part-giant. It's jsut the assumption of the word giant that strikes fear into wizards..."

Classes were just the same—but then it came the worry about the second task on February twenty-fourth. Harry told Darcy about how the golden egg could be heard more clearly under water. 

Harry and Hermione went straight to Darcy, the day before the second task, and took her to the library. 

"So, y'need my precious help?" Darcy said, her smile wide but worried. "What the egg say?"

" _Come seek us where our voices sound,_

_We cannot sing above the ground,_

_And while you're searching ponder this:_

_We've taken what you'll sorely miss,_

_An hour long you'll have to look,_

_And to recover what we took,_

_But past an hour — the prospect's black,_

_Too late, it's gone, it won't come back._ " 

There were many rounds of repeating the words. Darcy only confirmed what Harry already knew: that this was about merpeople and that he was going to need to breathe under water for an hour.

"They're gonna snatch something of yours, Harry," said Darcy, her voice full of despair. They've been at it for a while, their eyes drooping of sleep _—_ except for Hermione, who was dashing around the entire library to find books of spells.

Another massive book was placed in front of Harry, Ron, and Darcy. The two boys groaned, knocking their heads on the table.

"You're going mad, Hermione," Ron said, flicking through the pages of the book. 

"All I can  really say is that merpeople aren't looking for a weak bargain," Darcy explained. "They strike deals _—_ " yawn, " _—_ for what it's worth. And it's on  _their_  terms."

Harry sighed, "That's jsut great. Do I need to make a deal with the merpeople so that they can magic me into turning into them?"

Hermione scoffed. "No! I think that's considered cheating!"

Darcy shrugged at Harry when he turned to her. "Honestly, I'm too tired to disagree with anything Hermione says _—_ plus she's right."

Hermione nodded, ticking her foot. She went over to where Darcy sat, and said, "Honestly, Harry, I really thought you had this figured out!" Then, she went back into her book of Weird Wizard Dilemmas. "Who on earth wants to make their nose hair grow into ringlets?" 

"I wouldn't mind," said Fred Weasley's voice. "Be a talking point, wouldn't it?" 

Harry, Ron, Darcy, and Hermione looked up. Fred and George had just emerged from behind some bookshelves.

"What're you two doing here?" Ron asked.

"Looking for you," said George. "McGonagall wants you, Ron. And you, Hermione." 

"Why?" said Hermione, looking surprised. 

"Dunno . . . she was looking a bit grim, though," said Fred. 

"We're supposed to take you down to her office," said George. 

Darcy saw the hopeless look on Harry's face. Surely McGongall wasn't going to reprimand the two Gryffindors because they were helping Harry. Darcy was left behind, and she could still be helping Harry.

 "We'll meet you back in the common room," Hermione told Harry as she got up to go with Ron — both of them looked very anxious. "Bring as many of these books as you can, okay?"

"Right," said Harry uneasily.

When the four left, Darcy turned over to Harry. 

"An we've that meeting with Sirius on our next Hogsmeade, right? _—_ " Darcy trailed off when she heard a rather odd sort of person coming. Choosing to ignore the jumbling noise in her head from the person, Darcy stared intently at the floor. 

"Y'know, there's always another route to breathe underwater..."

Mad-Eye Moody was right next to the bookshelf Darcy was at, and she jumped back _—_ then the burning of the necklace Sirius gave her was on her chest. Darcy sensed his thoughts were a mangling mess and it was rather odd. 

"Potter _—_ Black," he snapped, his eyes moving all over the place. It disgruntled Darcy.

Harry stood up straighter. "Yes, sir?"

Moody's eyes went over to Darcy. He pointed a look at her. "Hate to break it to you, but the library is closing, and I'm going to need you both to leave."

Harry's eyes widened. Madam Pince was all around, kicking students out and shutting the fires off. Harry began scrambling around, gathering as much books as he could.

Darcy was keeping a close eye on Moody. Somehow, his aura was much more darker than when he was teaching. She refrained, though, from seeing his memories. Her necklace was enough to tell her that although it sensed danger, she was contracted to a boundary of respect that came along with her Legilimens

As though sensing her intense glare, Moody's magic eye turned over to her and she turned her gaze quickly to Harry.

"Black, I bet you got a lot of smarts in yeh?" Moody growled, moving back with his wooden leg holding most of his weight. He glared at her, though not his usual glare, it was knowing one. "You best head on out to the Slytherin common rooms!"

Taken aback by his loud voice _—_ that Madam Pince hushed _—_ Darcy bid her farewell to Harry.

"Good luck, Harry _—_ try to find something for tomorrow, alright?" she said, picking up her Herbology book (she was immensely horrible at the subject) and went off, trying her best to avoid Moody's magic eye from following her.

When she walked out of the library, maybe hoping to run into someone in the corridors. She didn't feel safe for some reason after her encounter with Moody. It was the sign of her necklace that really set everything _—_

The necklace! Darcy dragged the necklace from out of underneath her robes and saw the metal burn bright red. 

With a rapid heart, Darcy turned around and there was no on from behind her. She was scared witless _—_ maybe it was just an irrational fear? Maybe the necklace was wrong?

No, it couldn't be. Sirius said this worked with her mother when during the first Wizarding War. But, Darcy couldn't help but feel a little doubtful. 

Hogwarts was safe. After all her time in Ilvermorny was just  _ordinary._ Who would hurt an ordinary girl?

 _You're nor ordinary_! Darcy thought in her panic. She felt the necklace burn hotter and her chest was moving so fast. Oh,  _why did Darcy have to take the most silent path to the Slytherin common rooms_?

Who would hurt her?

" _STUPEFY_!"


End file.
